Sailor Moon:
                             Seven Knights
                             *************
                         Part 5:  Revelations 23



                         Written by Strike Fiss
                         Ninja Crowbotics, 1999























	Dave Reinquest looked out over the battlefield.  Smoke, ruddy 
with the blood of the Host, rolled across the sand in lazy, choking 
clouds.
	His arms were tired.  Aching.  Even though each Pookie weighed 
only scant pounds, the recoil had begun to jar his muscles to the point 
of exhaustion.  Andrea had long since leaned against the rock, fighting 
off the urges to go unconscious.  
	But Dave...he stood.  His eyes glared out over the destruction.  
He needed this.  Needed to know that he was alive, and they weren't.  
All seven thousand of them.  
	The rest of the Senshi had returned, bringing bad news.  They sat 
in a circle against the rocks, not moving.  Not talking.  Not doing 
anything.  Rei's face had turned ash-white as Miharu gently cried into 
her lap.
	Michael's eyes were crushed shut.  His face in a painful grimace.  
He looked just as lost as they all did.  Fiss was supposed to come here 
to save them.  Tip the balance just enough so SkitZ and the other 
Houses could stand a fighting chance.  Not this.  All this way to die 
in the Pool of Angels.  
	
	They just stayed like that.  

	For hours.

	Throwing down his exhausted weapons, Dave walked over to what was 
left of one of the winged bastards who attacked them.  It's entire 
torso had been blown wide open, fused together in a grotesque 
reflection of it's former self.  The angels' eyes stared blankly into 
the darkening sky.  
	"Mother FUCKERS!" he screamed out over the wasteland.  His voice 
echoed off the distant dunes.  He turned to the group.  "They never 
even tried to retreat." He growled.  "They kept coming.  Just kept 
coming.  One after another.  They couldn't get it into their tiny minds 
that this wasn't RIGHT!  That this was WRONG!" he threw down his 
jacket, stained in blood and sweat.  "I SURE as HELL didn't see the 
Seven fucking Virtues in their actions today!"
	Michael looked over to Dave with eyes that could have sliced the 
moon in two.  "Shut UP!" he demanded.
	"Or what?" Dave growled back.  "I may not be a fucking Archangel, 
but I swear you will NOT like what I AM." He turned his back on the 
Knight.  "This...this is war.  Pure war.  Throwing gobs and gobs of 
death at each other until one side wins the snowball fight!  Never 
questioning the orders, only obeying.  After a while, it doesn't even 
matter what side is good, and what side is evil.  Both sides just 
obey."
	He growled, kicking his weapon across the sand, but causing more 
damage to his foot by the sound of the grunt he made afterwards.  "What 
us humans have done pales compared to this." He turned.  "I though 
angels didn't know how to be corrupt souls.  YOU, sir, may just be an 
angel.  But these..." he wound up and kicked the head of the closest 
one "could NEVER be angels!" he yelled at the corpse, falling over in 
rage.  "FUCK!"
	The Knight of SkitZ came with no reply, and just hunched over his 
rock, trying to gather his thoughts.  Thousands of corpses littered his 
vision as he did.  "We have to go." He decided quietly.
	"No." Rei shot back, knowing exactly what he meant.  "We're not 
leaving him behind."
	"I don't care what you think." Michael stood quickly and began 
walking into the desert.  "I've lost an old friend today.  Perhaps the 
only other true Knight.  At least he died this way, instead of turning 
into someone you wouldn't even recognize." He turned with a frown as he 
saw they weren't following.  "The Aszaps are going to figure this out 
eventually.  That means another Host is on it's way.  Raphael was seen 
less than a day ago around here.  He knows where to look for us.  I 
suggest we leave."
	"But..."
	"NOW!" SkitZ yelled.  "PICK UP YOUR PACKS NOW!!  I'm taking you 
all home before I have more blood on my sword." He closed his eyes.  "I 
will return for his body eventually.  But now, we MUST leave before the 
Pool is discovered."
	Andrea stood suddenly, picking up her pack.  She walked slowly 
over to Michael, tears in her eyes.  In one, smooth motion, she decked 
him across the face, knocking him down on his ass.  
	Michael did nothing, letting himself tumble over once, crashing 
unceremoniously into a lump.  He had no argument.  Not against Chris' 
sister.  
	"We've come too far to run." She whispered.  Her voice was 
shaking, but clear.  "I've lost a brother to this war." She closed her 
eyes.  "I'm not going to stop until I kill each and every ONE of these 
mother fuckers.
	"You wanted help, you better fucking well take it." She glared at 
the angel with hurt eyes.  "Now, where do we go now."
	Maury looked them all over and nodded.  "This entire world is 
FUBAR.  I'm not going to leave Fiss to die in a place like this."
	Rei closed her eyes tighter.  
	Beavis walked over to the middle of them.  Tiny footprints in the 
sand showed he wasn't even bothering to float.  He was too tired 
mentally.  
	"There's a chance he's not dead, you know." He spoke softly.  "We 
can't leave now.  Not when there's still a chance." He turned to Dave.  
"Could his sword survive the fall?"
	Dave shook his head.  "I don't know.  Back in the old universe, 
it was powered by Saturn's influence.  Here, it might have ran out of 
power.  He used it more than a few times..."
	"W...what do you..." Rei looked up.  "Beavis...please...what's 
going on?"
	"I don't know." He admitted.  "But, back when Tumbler killed 
him..." he shook his head.  "I don't know.  He got back by himself, 
though."
	Michael shook his head.  "I've never heard of that happening to 
anyone here.  Not even a Knight."
	Thunder could be heard in the distance.  Something black over the 
horizon could be seen.  Another thundercloud.  "Shit." Dave sighed, 
picking up his Pookies and setting them for recharge mode.  "We have to 
leave." He looked over to Rei with apologetic eyes.  "We can come back, 
but we need to leave unless we want to join him."
	"He'll be safe here." Michael said weakly, standing up.  
"Please..." he looked over the group.  "We must go now before their 
scouts come."
	One by one, anyone who was not standing finally picked up their 
packs.  Miharu clutched onto Rei's side.  Demeter offered to carry both 
their packs, but Rei shook her head.  "No...I'm fine..." she told him.  
"Lets just get out of here."

	As the group trudged past him, SkitZ sighed and turned back to 
the Pool of Angels.  The tiny entrance was still visible.  Slowly, he 
raised his hand to his mouth, kissing his first two fingers.  Then, he 
knelt down, touching the sand below.
	A slow rumbling caught everyone off guard, and they turned to see 
the sand around the entrance grow into a whirlwind, then smooth out 
over the rock.  With a final, tiny flash of red light, the sand had 
solidified into a cobblestone texture, blending in with the rocks, but 
also marking the entrance for their return.
	Without a word, they began walking again.  Michael brought up the 
rear, erasing the group's footprints with his wings dusting along the 
ground.  
	
















                            Chapter 1









	
	

	Azrael walked quickly through his personal halls.  They branched 
off everywhere.  A backbone to every point in the city that he alone 
had access to.  Script along the walls threatened a mind-destroying 
spell to anyone BUT the Archangel Fiss himself.  
	Usually, when he trudged through the stale air in these labyrinth 
like passages, he savored the feeling of isolation it gave him.  These 
were HIS tunnels.  Nobody else's.  They offered him his city, and the 
world it seemed at times.  
	But today?  He wished Raphael was back from his journey.  It was 
almost sunrise.  Perhaps he fled, taking Fiss' words to heart and 
wishing to avoid a fate worse than death.
	Azrael, the Angel of Death, knew of many such fates; as while 
Death was his profession, Pain was his hobby.  One that he studied and 
practiced often.  Interesting things happened when the two were 
combined to torture one's eternal soul.  He found it fascinating, and 
the reputation he received from his 'hobby' often was enough to 
frighten his enemies into obedience.  
	It turned out that he may have used his reputation one time too 
many.  If Raphael was cowering in some tree-hollow somewhere, he wasn't 
going to be much help.  
	"Shit." He muttered out loud, breaking the uneasy silence of his 
soft footsteps.  It wasn't directed at anything in particular.  He just 
felt a good curse was in order.
	He turned the corner of a seemingly endless series of identical 
corridors, and that led him to a sharply angled passage way that lead 
upwards.  Sunlight from it's rising could be seen at the end, telling 
him he had found the right place.  
	Azrael's crow-black wings spread slightly, and he floated up the 
ramp, eventually exiting into the access conduit to the Observation 
Deck.  The giant crystal-shielded hall at the top of the City.  
	He landed on the tiled floor, folding his wings neatly against 
his shoulder blades.  To his relief, though he'd never show it, Raphael 
was waiting for him with a stern face instead of one filled with fear.  
"You have something?" Azrael asked in his usual whispering voice.  
	The giant man bowed slightly and reached into his belt, where he 
had a number of leather pouches for storage on his journeys.  From 
that, he produced a small chunk of metal and wood.  He tossed it onto 
the tile at Fiss' feet.  "The Trinity Desert has been re-decorated." 
Raphael said in a voice that, for him, was full of humor.  
	"Jeremiel's sword...?" Fiss picked it up and suddenly had a 
stricken look on his face.  "Where's the rest of it?" he asked as he 
thumbed the shattered, cut metal where the hand guard would have met 
the blade.  
	"I searched across the entire battle, m'Lord." Raphael shook his 
head.  "It was stolen from the scene."
	Azrael looked up through his long, dark hair.  "What do you mean, 
'scene'?"
	"It seems as if Jeremiel took one of his Hosts to intercept 
Michael in the desert." Raphael said casually like he was discussing 
the weather.
	Fiss' eyes flickered.  "Where's Michael's body?" he asked with a 
small smile.
	"I did not see it." Raphael replied.  "And none of the Host 
survived.  I believe Michael won." He said with a tiny hint of pride in 
his gruff voice.  "I would have liked to have been there.  It must have 
been a glorious battle."
	Fiss raised an eyebrow.  "Jeremiel and a Host of his angels were 
slaughtered by Michael?" he laughed.  "Michael SkitZ?  Knight of 
insanity and desperation?"
	"And whoever he was with, m'Lord." Raphael added.  "There were no 
other bodies, though.  Only Bikko casualties."
	Eyes wide, Fiss walked over to the mirror slowly.  "My my..." he 
turned.  "You're certain?"
	"I can draw the prophecy for you if you wish." He offered.
	"No." Fiss turned to look at the mirror again.  It was still 
cloaked in haste from his visions of late.  "Just...keep searching.  
Get the Cherubs on this.  Both our houses." He traced his finger along 
the smooth cut that penetrated through half the blade's stump.  "Keep 
searching."
	Anything that could have survived against a fully armed Host was 
something to be concerned about.  Even if Michael had help, he couldn't 
have brought back another Host of his own.  Not even a fraction of a 
Host.  Even then, he would have suffered SOME casualties, even if he 
managed to cast a few miracles and kill Jeremiel.  
	Even in a universe where an Act of God wouldn't be far-fetched, 
this was a miracle in it's own right.

	Right now, the only miracles Azrael could afford were his own.  
	
	He turned to Raphael as the massive angel was getting ready to 
descend down the access tunnel.  "Raphael."
	"Yes, m'Lord?"
	"Take a few of the boys back to the battle." Azrael said, still 
rolling Jeremiel's sword-hilt in his hand.  "After you're done checking 
for anything interesting, come back.  You and I are going to go on a 
little trip."
	"Trip, m'Lord?" Raphael blinked.
	"Yes." Fiss smiled.  "Over to the Howling Desert.  To the cave."
	Raphael's eyes went wide.
	"Dismissed."
	















	The first thing he felt was pain.  He welcomed it like a starving 
man denied food for a week.  It was like a banquet of the finest foods.  
Gravy and stuffing with mock chicken-loaf.  Fine wine and Jolt Cola.  
He dared not scream when he did not know where he was.  Something he 
had learned during the worst nightmares.
	Never scream.  You never know who you might wake up.
	His eyes were tired.  They hurt even as he cracked them open, 
prompting tears to roll down the sides of his cheeks.  Candlelight 
flickered off the roof as sight finally returned to him.
	Despite his best intentions to keep quiet, he let out a low, 
painful groan as he realized just how much pain there was in his body.  
Three hundred and so-so meters.  What the hell was he thinking.  That 
was not a question to his own foolish mind.  It was just something to 
remind him why he hurt so much.
	At least pain meant he was alive.
	A sudden flash of thought skittered through his mind. 
	At least, he HOPED it meant he was alive.
	When nobody came to him after he made a sound, he figured 
movement would be safe.  Slowly, he brought his hands up to his face.  
They were wrapped in thick wads of fabric.  Flexing his wrists just 
caused more pain.  It was almost like the muscles had been destroyed.  
"Oh God..." he sighed to himself.
	"God?"
	The voice startled him, and he sat up quickly, looking around in 
the dim light with his even dimmer eyesight.  "Who said that!" he 
demanded.
	Another voice.  A laugh this time.  "Well...he's awake."
	Chris could almost feel his hackles raising.  His breathing 
became fast as the adrenaline hit once more.  He looked himself over.  
His pants were still on.  No shirt.  No sword at his side.  "Where's my 
sword." He growled.  "Whoever has my sword..."
	"It's on the floor next to you." The first voice said slowly.  
"But you won't need it here."
	He looked down, found the shiny silver-blue blade, and was about 
to pick it up when the bandage smacked against it and pain rocketed 
through his arm.  "DAMN!" he coughed, falling off the bed and crashing 
down on his elbows in an effort to save his hands.  
	"That was entertaining." The second voice hissed dryly.  
	"God DAMMIT!" Fiss coughed.  Blood dripped onto the dry brown 
floor.
	The second, darker voice came closer.  A tall, muscular man with 
a coal black beard and hair grabbed Fiss up by his bare neck and lifted 
the younger man up like he weighed a gram and a half.  "You're going to 
have to WATCH that profanity." He hissed, glaring into Chris' eyes.
	"Sorry." Chris wheezed back.
	He sneered and dropped Chris back down on the barely-softer-than-
the-floor bed.  "Christopher Fiss...you should have never come back 
here." He said in a low whisper.
	"How do you know my name?" Chris blinked.  "Everyone calls me 
Azrael or just plain old 'Guy'."
	A thin, slow smile crossed the man's face.  "Little 
Christopher..." he jumped up onto the bed in an eerie, crow-like perch, 
edging Chris back as he leaned over.  "Such a confused child, yet never 
complaining.  Always just helping out.  Fighting the bad guys.  Hoping 
it was enough to crawl through the morality." He laughed.  It was a 
hollow...black laugh.  His breath smelled a thousand years old.  
	Chris swallowed hard, not really knowing why.  "How do you..."
	The man's long, black coat ruffled against his back and 
shoulders.  "I know, little Christopher.  I remember your sweet sweet 
dreams.  How flying through the clouds made you sleep in more than 
once.  How scared you were of falling awake." He laughed.  "I thought 
it was so cute."
	Shaking slightly, Chris had to scoot back a few inches to avoid 
this man's face.  His eyes were dark.  Something sad...dead...it was 
looking at someone forever morning.  "Who the hell are you...?"
	"Everyone knows who I am." He smiled, leaning over to re-close 
the space between their eyes.  "What do you think my name is?"
	"Azer." Fiss replied.  His voice wasn't loud enough to wake a 
hedgehog out of a daze.  
	"Ahh..." the man stood, leaping off the bed.  He landed without 
even making a sound.  "But which one?" he laughed.  "So many angels in 
this little fairytale." He said in a sing-song voice.  "Cupid's come to 
feed on the guts of your lovely little bastard family, Azrael slowly 
devours the world above in his haste to never let it go, and Michael 
can't hear the Word past his own head's detritus goo."
	"You know Michael?" Chris said hopefully.  "Do you know where he 
is?"
	"I know Michael." He nodded.  "I fought him once." He said 
quietly.  "Turned out I underestimated his wings."
	"Lucifer." Chris shook his head.  "Fuck."
	"And he figures it out in record time!" Lucifer laughed again.  
"I love you wacky little humans for that.  Never saying what you know 
is true until you're certain you won't look like an idiot by speaking 
out loud."
	"Get away from me." Fiss hissed.  "Or I will SHOW you 'wacky'."
	"Would BOTH OF YOU relax?" the first man yelled.  "Lucifer!  You 
think you're helping this?"
	To Chris' surprise, Lucifer bowed slightly and walked away.  
"Perhaps we'll continue this later."
	Fiss stretched out on the bed, shivering.  "So is it true?"
	Lucifer smiled.  "Is what true?"
	"Did you go down to Georgia?  And can you play a fiddle?" Fiss 
smiled.  
	"I'm better at the bagpipes." Lucifer nodded.
	Chris looked around the tiny room.  "So what?  Am I in hell?" his 
eyes closed.  "I'm dead, aren't I?"
	Both men looked at each other, then back to Fiss.  "Well, kinda." 
The un-named man said in a voice that had just a touch of humor in it.  
	"No..." Chris leaned forward.  "You see, it was a very simple 
question.  If I am dead, then I'm dead.  However, if I'm still 
breathing, thinking, and living in the land OF the living, then that's 
another story."
	"Let's just say you did die." The first nodded.  "But you're no 
stranger to that, are you?"
	"Not from what I've seen." Lucifer smiled.  He scratched his 
beard quietly.
	"You've got a nice little sword." He nodded.  "I don't remember 
it, though.  It's beautiful." The man knelt down.  "Do you mind?" he 
asked, reaching for it."
	"Go for it." Fiss sighed, looking at his useless hands.
	Slowly, the unnamed man smiled under his hooded robes and picked 
it up.  The blade gently shone in the dim light.  "Wow..." he nodded.  
"Very nice." He gently put it down back on the ground next to Fiss' 
scabbard.  "Who made it?"
	
	Slowly, the man slid back his hood, revealing his face.  

	Chris' eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.  "You...you did..." he 
whispered.

	Henry Yamato...thirty years old, looked up at Fiss with curious, 
gray eyes.  "I don't remember making..."
	He was cut off as Chris leapt off the bed like a child and 
embraced the man in a huge hug, oblivious of the pain.  "I can't 
believe it..." he laughed.  "It's really you..." he squeezed the man as 
tight as he could.
	Lucifer regarded the scene with a smile.  "Now how did he know 
YOUR name?"
	Yamato laughed, hugging Fiss back.  "It's good to see you again, 
Christopher." He held him out at arms length, looking him over.  "My 
grandson...all grown up." His eyes creased at the corners as the 
biggest smile Fiss had ever seen was on his face.
	"You...you remember?" Fiss said, not able to wipe the smile off 
his own lips.  "Oh my god..."
	"Most of it." He nodded happily, patting Chris' shoulders.  "DAMN 
it's good to see you again!" he returned the hug.
	Chris closed his eyes and just hugged back.  "Thank you, thank 
you..." he paused, letting his grandfather go.  "Why are you hanging 
out with the devil, grandpa?"
	Yamato laughed.  "We need to talk, Chris." He nodded slowly.  
"There's a lot you need to know." He shook his head.  "Later, anyway." 
He smiled kindly.
	Laughing, Chris hugged the man again.  "You're back.  I can't 
believe it, you're back." He said, ignoring the tears in his eyes.  
"Thank you..."
	"No..." Yamato replied.  "Thank you." He sighed, hugging his 
grandson back.



















                              Chapter 2






	
	
	
	It had been a long week.  Nobody slept anymore.  Demeter kept 
hassling Andrea to eat something, or she would usually go days without 
worrying about it.  Maury would get lost in his own thoughts once in a 
while; laughing at some long-distant memory, then stopping when he 
remembered that the past was gone.
	Michael put on a determined face, but he was clearly anything 
but.  His plans to fight the impossible were screeching to a rather 
abrupt halt.  All they could do now is return to his City and regroup.  
	Rei and Miharu stayed in direct physical contact during the 
entire hike.  Either Rei would carry Miharu on her back or they walked 
besides one another.  Beavis stayed with Miharu constantly, making sure 
she was doing okay.
	He realized, long ago, that something like this would happen.  
Sad, but true.  Death was inevitable.  Good or evil.  King or peasant.  
Senshi or Angel.  It was the great equalizer.  If it had been anyone 
else, the reaction would have been the same.  There were no leaders and 
followers in the Senshi.  Only friends.  Each of them grieved the same.  
The only difference would be maybe Chris would be walking besides them, 
replacing someone else who had died instead.  It was not a comforting 
thought that it was probably going to happen again.  
	Happen again soon, in all likelihood.  It was set.  The 
crusade...as foolish as it was...had been decided upon.  

	Kill Azrael.  The only thing higher was making sure at least one 
of the got back alive to give the Omega Web the information collected.  

	Michael never talked about it, but each of them began to realize 
exactly what that meant.  Each House had to have more than one Host.  
And there were four houses against them, and three that wouldn't help 
unless attacked in the first place.  
	Dave was beginning to wish he brought more fire-power.
	So was everyone else.

	On the eighth day of silent travel, a strange, pleasant smell 
began to fill the air as they walked through a grassy plain.  It was 
softly salty, and smelled of wind and freedom.  
	Over a small ridge of hills, they finally spotted the ocean.  For 
the first time in a week, smiles were on everyone's faces.  "Wow..." 
Miharu whispered, looking out over at the perfect blue horizon that 
seemed to stretch forever and curve back around them.  
	Michael riffled his wings in the sudden wind that came off the 
bay.  "There have been times in the last few weeks when I thought I 
would never see this place again." He said quietly to himself.  "It's 
good to be back."
	
	The misty sea air rolled across the water, occasionally parting 
enough to see some kind of massive...shape...on the water.
	"What's that?" Dave asked, eyes squinted.
	"You'll see." Michael smiled.  A moment later, a small cherub-
like boy fluttered down from the clouds.
	It said nothing, but looked up at Michael with big, puppy-dog-
brown eyes.  Everyone leaned over to look at the little angel.  
"Awwww...he's so CUUUTE!" Demeter cooed, barely resisting the urge to 
tickle the little guy.
	"Yes." Michael nodded.  "I'll need one of the boats sent over.  
The usual point."
	Everyone watched as the little cherub nodded, then with a brief 
flutter of his tiny feathery wings, took off like a bullet and headed 
out over the ocean.  
	"Don't they talk?" Maury asked.
	"No, only lower-angels talk." Michael said, stretching his wings.  
"The Cherubs are actually closer to a perfect supreme being than we 
are, but we handle corporeal matters better than they do, so the 
Archangels are considered the leaders."
	"Kinda like how the Penguin High Lords sometimes appoint a human 
they can trust for their matters in dealing with the rest of the 
planet." Dave chimed in suddenly.  "But in reality, Penguins have 
already achieved a higher state of consciousness than most of us."
	"If you don't SHUT UP about Penguins..." Maury growled.
	"Uh..." SkitZ shook his head.  "Yeah.  Sorta like that."
	Andrea raised an eyebrow.  "Penguin High Lords?"
	They were interrupted as a small raft appeared out of the mist, 
docking silently on the beach below.  "Come on.  The sooner we find out 
what's been going on the better." Michael said, walking down the slope.
	The rest of them followed.  Casually, when they reached it, SkitZ 
just stepped on.
	"So how safe is this boat?" Maury frowned.  Actually, it was more 
like a plank of wood that was somehow floating on the water.  Even when 
Michael, Dave, and Maury were on it, the 'raft' didn't even sink an 
inch.  
	"More script." Dave said as the rest of them boarded.  "Multi-
purpose, isn't it?"
	"You have no idea." Michael smiled.  He leaned over, and placed 
one of the twigs that was on the side of the raft in the middle of a 
few characters of Theban, connecting them together. 
	With a tiny bounce, the raft began to accelerate forward.  "Holy 
shit!" Maury laughed.  
	"Not Holy." Michael corrected.  "Just Theban."
	"Oh." Maury blinked.  "Well, 'Theban Shit' just doesn't sound 
right."
	"True enough." Michael nodded.
	
	They stood along the front edge of the floating plank, watching 
as something huge started to come through the mist.  "I'd like to 
introduce to you..." Michael said proudly.  "The City of SkitZ."

	Huge wasn't the word.  Monstrous wasn't even close.  It was like 
a pyramid-shaped mountain.  Dave made a quick estimate in the back of 
his analytical mind and came up with seven THOUSAND and forty-nine 
meters high.  "Holy fucking shit..."
	Michael laughed.  "Now THAT is an appropriate term."
	If the City had been made out of rock, LIKE a mountain, it 
wouldn't have been nearly impressive.  This thing was NOT made out of 
rock.
	Metal.  Concrete.  Crystal.  Lights.  It was like a million 
skyscrapers were crushed into a blender, put on 'frappe', and poured 
into an Egyptian Jell-O mold almost the size of Mount Everest.
	"Now THAT is a city." Beavis nodded.
	At the very summit, they saw spikes of stone coming from the top.  
About half-way up the side of the giant structure was a massive crystal 
ring embedded in the metal and stone.  It glowed from the inside out. 
	"That looks like a Point Calculator..." Dave mused to himself.
	"It's a power plant." SkitZ commented.  "The sun focuses into the 
middle and heats up the oils inside." He smiled.  "It's our finest 
achievement.  Creates more energy then we can use most of the time.  
We're working on a City Defense weapon we like to call Wrath, but it's 
still in testing phases.  That much power just might be enough."
	"I'll look over the schematics if you want." Dave smiled.
	"Sounds great."
	
	A small army of Cherubs were guarding the main dock.  A hole that 
opened up on the base of the pyramid.  Spines and blades complimented 
them.  
	They all saluted as their Knight moved past them.  SkitZ turned 
to one who was wearing a small, golden hair-clip on it's nearly bald 
head.  "Yes.  Call the other Archangels.  I want a full report."
	The tiny boy-angel nodded quickly, and flew ahead of them on 
little hawk wings.  
	"That's A'albiel." Michael smiled.  "The General of the Cherubs.  
Really nice guy, but don't let him con you into a game of Chance-Dice.  
He always cheats.  Never trust a Cherub when it comes to the Laws of 
Physics."
	
	Passing under a torch-lit archway, the little raft continued 
deeper into the city walls.  
	The main entrance was amazingly well guarded.  Though small, it 
bristled with activity.  A high groove in the roof hid a small army of 
SkitZ Cherubs, all seemed to be chatting among themselves silently with 
their quiet telepathic tongue.  A few seemed to be reacting to jokes 
told by their palls. Maury smiled as a few of the Cherubs they passed 
seemed to be admiring his trenchcoat.  It seemed to be a friendly 
atmosphere.  
	All the while, though, their tiny hands held jagged crystal 
spears.  Just the sheer number of them would have easily decimated a 
large section of a Host even before they realized who was defending.  
If anything actually survived past these gigantic, thick stone walls, 
it wouldn't have been in much of a condition to fight.
	Their craft sped along silently, finally reaching the strange, 
warm light at the end of the tunnel.  SkitZ leaned over and removed the 
small twig from the script on the wood, placing it to the side in the 
provided container, slowing the craft in response.  "We're almost 
here."

	A pleasant cool mist washed over them as they glided out into the 
light.  "Wow." Andrea gasped.

	Crystal blue water jetted up hundreds of meters into the air, 
filling the central plaza with light and refreshing the stuffy air they 
were breathing in the tunnel into a wonderful, lake-like atmosphere.  
	Sunshine-like-light came from the power-ring that they had seen 
protruding from the outside.  Looking up, they saw the four massive 
walls coming together overhead almost out of sight.  The vertigo alone 
made the interior of the City even more impressive than the exterior.  
Where as the outside was dark blue, gray and littered with small orange 
lights, the inside was more of an amazing silver and gold.  
	With the giant fountain in the middle, the central plaza seemed 
to stretch on for miles in every direction.  Angels and people in every 
kind of clothing imaginable walked and flew across the artificial 
landscape.  Most were moving from shops around the center and outsides 
to outcropped buildings and homes that followed a less traditional 
'pyramid' design, and spun off chaotically in every architecture 
possible.  Silver, bulbous spires and even some more Earthy rectangle-
shaped apartments could be seen, hugging the main walls. 
	The walls themselves were another amazing site.  Not simply 
technology and armor for the city...they WERE the city.  Story after 
story of office, shop, barrack, manufacturing plant and everything in 
imagination.  Most of it was open to the internal sky, without glass to 
close everything in.  Only balconies and an occasional crystal 'window' 
interrupted the slow, gradual slope towards the center apex.  
	Dave was taken back.  The Omega Web never bothered making much of 
a base for itself.  A few offices, research and development, and that 
was it.  THIS was, for lack of a better word, inspiring.  "Where did 
all this COME from?" he whispered as their boat slowed and ran up on 
the plaza's docks.
	"The Cities are our finest achievements." Michael said proudly.  
"Palaces for those loyal to a House.  Everything we've achieved and 
fought for...these symbolize everything."
	Maury's jaw had dropped, and had refused to close.  "How come 
outside was 'Legend of Zelda', and inside it's 'Empire Strikes Back'?"
	SkitZ laughed like it was the stupidest question in the world.  
"You think making a city like this is EASY?  I've been alive for a few 
centuries, and I must confess, I haven't seen every nook and cranny in 
it." He stepped onto the lush, green turf and raised his arms.  "I 
wasn't kidding when I said this was our greatest achievement.  Millions 
of lines of Theban.  Three times as much Alael.  This entire city was 
built into a mountain, you know.  That wasn't easy.  Metal mines for a 
thousand miles have almost dried up.  Tones of crystal and every gem 
known to our planet.  Though the same technology is used by a few 
civilians outside the Cities, it's only in special cases.  It's much 
cheaper and easier to maintain the traditional ways."
	"This is amazing." Dave admitted.  "Simply amazing.  Like an act 
of God."
	"Never underestimate an act of SkitZ." Michael smiled.

	They were interrupted by a chorus of trumpets.  Something else 
that sounded vaguely like soft humming also filled the air.  They city 
seemed to light up even more, and the crowd around them turned suddenly 
to witness the arrival of their Knight.  
	Two new angels swooped down elegantly, tucking their wings away 
into their cloak-form as soon as they hit.  Bowing deeply, they smiled.  
"Michael.  It's good to have you back." The first said.
	"You missed me, Anafiel?" Michael laughed, exchanging a warm 
handshake with the shorter, blonde man.  
	"Not too much." He replied with a laugh.  "Who are your friends?  
I assume they ARE your friends if they got by A'albiel and the others." 
He grinned.
	Tsirya, the other angel gave them all a strange look.  "I suppose 
that's why you called a meeting of the Archangels?"
	"And yet another who seems to be a Sherlock Holmes incarnate." 
Demeter stated proudly.  
	"Yes." Michael nodded, returning an equally sedated glare at the 
man.  He was tall, but looked like he could have been shoveled aside by 
Beavis walking into him.  "Give us an hour.  I want to show my friends 
the city." He sighed.  "We have a lot to talk about."
	"Indeed we do." Tsirya mumbled flatly.  With that, he turned, 
spread his wings, and took off into the air, passing under the 
fountain's mists.  
	"Don't mind him." Anafiel sighed.  "A lot's been going on.  The 
grain supplies haven't been holding up as well as we though, and the 
House of Fiss seems to be trying to cause some kind of a civil war in 
the City.  Nothing's been happening yet, but it's still a bother to 
have to divert resou..."
	"Later." Michael promised.  "We can discuss this all later.  In 
the meantime, will you be so kind as to set up a floor for my friends?  
One of the suites."
	Anafiel laughed.  "Wow." He turned to the Senshi.  "He must 
either really like you all, or want to assassinate you later."
	Michael smiled evilly.  "We like our assassinations fresh, ya 
know."
	"As do all civilized folk." Maury smiled.
	"I'll set em up before the meeting." Anafiel bowed to his knight 
slightly.  "Anything else?"
	"Bring some of the design scriptures to their quarters.  The 
entire City." Michael nodded.
	"WHAT?!"
	"You know our little Wrath system?" Michael interrupted.
	"Yeah?" Anafiel frowned.
	SkitZ pointed to Dave.  "If anyone's going to get it working, 
that man can."
	With wide eyes, Anafiel nodded.  A noticeable mix of curiosity 
and respect towards Michael's friends was in his voice and eyes.  
"Done." He bowed again, deeper, and then flew off to join the sky.
	Casually, Michael turned to his friends.  "Come on.  I know where 
you can get the BEST worm pudding on the planet." He smiled.  "This 
way."
	"Glad I brought some sandwiches." Dave frowned and shuddered.


















                             Chapter 3











	It happened during breakfast.  

	The dark caverns, lit only by the stinky oil lamps that dotted 
the walls, had been his home for who knew how long.  Still, he had 
faith that this would not be permanent.  Even if he was spending the 
time in the company of Lucifer.  
	His hands didn't help.  He tried not to dwell on the events that 
lead to them being bandaged.  Watching Miharu's face as she realized HE 
was going to fall and not her.  It had been the longest few moments of 
his life.  For a long time, he was certain that he would not be able to 
hold onto the sword, and he would have to watch her vaporize into 
oblivion, or if she was lucky, snap her neck on the water three hundred 
meters below.  
	They were healing.  He could already feel them itching beneath 
the bandages, and Yamato had been by every day to re-apply them.  When 
Chris managed to get enough courage to look at them, he saw they 
weren't nearly as bad as they sometimes felt.  
	So long as his grandfather was here.  He could face Tumbler with 
a rusty Swiss Army Knife and win, so long as he had that kind of 
comfort.

	That's when it hit.  

	He was eating something that resembled porridge, as Lucifer drank 
a cup of water from the opposite end of the table.  Chris' eyes 
widened, he looked up, and promptly slammed his head on the table.
	Lucifer raised a surprised eyebrow.  "Well, I can't say I was 
expecting that..."
	Yamato glanced over from his books he had been writing in, over 
to Fiss.  "Something wrong?"
	"I don't believe it." Chris started laughing.  "During 
Armageddon.  I said to myself 'This one's for you, grandpa', and went 
into the vortex." He shook his head.  "Wow."
	"What have you been telling him?" Yamato demanded of Lucifer.  
	Lucifer, for his credit, looked completely offended.  "Nothing!  
I haven't said more than a sentence to him all day."
	It was true, most of the conversation over the last few days had 
been stuff like "food please," or "bandages" and basic stuff like that.  
Whatever was making Chris' hands heal faster also made him sleep most 
of the time.
	"It's nothing." Chris smiled, sitting back up.  "I remember just 
before...Rei and I were talking." He took a long, deep breath and 
sighed.  "We were both wishing we had our grandfathers back.  She had 
lost hers during the winter.  I had lost you a few years earlier."
	
	"You're telling me we're back because you missed your grandpa?" 
Lucifer smiled.  "Oooh, how DELICIOUS!  I can't wait to tell Michael."
	"It does seem a little overly-simple, doesn't it." Yamato 
laughed.  "Some grandchildren get their grandparents lotto-tickets.  
You really shouldn't have."
	"Well, you know how it is." Chris shrugged.  "I was down at Wal-
Mart, thinking 'Mmm, should I get him a tie?  Or reconstruct his 
universe?'"
	"Can't wait for Christmas." Lucifer smiled, smoothing out his 
beard.
	"I had no idea it was so easy." Chris shook his head.  "I mean, 
all you need is a thought in your head.  It's like a wish.  The one 
wish your heart wants."
	Both Yamato and Lucifer looked at Chris suddenly.  "How did this 
Armageddon happen, Christopher?" 
	"The seven keys." Chris replied.  "You get enough of them in one 
place at one time, and they'll let you do anything.  It's like drinking 
syrup from a snow-cone straight up.  That much concentrated universe is 
a pretty powerful thing."
	"Michael was right."  Lucifer sighed to himself.
	"Azrael's going to try for it." Yamato said silently.  "He's seen 
your dreams, Chris.  I think he figured it out."
	Chris nodded, then began to un-wrap his hands with his teeth.  
	"What are you doing?" Yamato asked, concerned. 
	He left some of the cloth around the palms of his hands, but 
walked over and picked up his sword.  He winced slightly, but that 
feeling was overcome by how good it was to hold his weapon again.  Even 
as his fingers popped into place from their rest, he smiled.  "Let's 
get started." He nudged his blade free from the scabbard, checking it 
for dirt.  Finding none, he slid it back, then tied it to his waist 
with a strip of cloth he had in his belt-loops for just such a purpose.
	"Where's my shirt." Chris asked, but found it over on his cot.  
	Lucifer stood quickly as Chris unfolded it.  "I wouldn't do that 
if I were you."
	"You don't wear shirts?" Chris mocked as he slid one arm through 
the proper hole, then the other.  
	As he shrugged the shirt onto his back, however, his eyes went 
wide and he dropped on the ground in pain.  His back seemed to be on 
fire.  
	Yamato, anticipating this, had a small knife ready and shredded 
the dress-shirt off his back, letting Chris breathe again.  "Next time 
a fallen angel warns you about something, I suggest you listen.  They 
normally don't give a shit unless it's important."
	Chris nodded weakly, breathing hard on his stomach.  "Sorry..."
	"You'll notice that shirts won't fit for a while." Henry sighed, 
helping his grandson up.  "The kind of magic you're dealing with is 
hard to get used to.  After a while, you'll be able to retract it, or 
expend it as far as necessary.  For now, though, you have to let it 
take root and not pick at it."
	"What are you talking about?" Chris frowned, shaking his head.  
His entire mind seemed fuzzed over by the pain in his back.  
	Yamato reached around Chris, and in a quick jerk, pulled 
something out of his shoulder.  Chris gasped as a quick jolt of pain 
hit him again, but it faded much faster.  
	"This is what I'm talking about." The older man smiled, 
retracting his hand between them. 

	Chris looked down and saw a single, white feather in his hand.  
"Oh shit..." he whispered, looking over his shoulders.  Tiny tufts of 
feathers were attached seamlessly to his shoulder-blades, just next to 
his backbone.  
	"Seems the Pool of Angels liked you." Lucifer said quietly.  
"You're an Archangel."
	"WHAT?!" Chris gasped, frantically reaching behind his back, 
finding only pain when he tried to touch the feathers.  
	"Don't PICK at it!" Yamato said sternly, grabbing Chris' 
shoulders.  "You MUST be careful with your wings until they take root.  
There is no second chance."
	"I don't WANT them to take root!" Chris growled back.  "Shit!  
I'm not from this place!  I'm from Earth, I was born there, and even 
before that, I was on Saturn.  I come from a people that believe in 
angels...not BECOME them!"
	"They'll help." Yamato pleaded.  "You must trust me on this!"
	"I DON'T NEED HELP!" Fiss demanded.  "I have my sword and my 
friends, that's all I've ever needed!  My head feels better, and I 
certainly don't need THESE to worry about!" he looked over to Lucifer.  
"I don't WANT to wear a coat all the time!"
	"You don't have to." Lucifer sighed.  "If you would just calm 
down."
	"NO!" Chris turned back to his grandfather.  "What am I going to 
do about this!?!"
	"Sleep." He suggested.
	"What?"
	Before Chris could say anything else, Yamato pressed a small 
wooden square against Fiss' head, and he dropped down, face first, on 
his cot.
	Everything was silent for a long time.  Yamato sighed and 
straightened out Chris on the tiny bed.  "This is not good."
	"He just needs to get used to it." Lucifer replied quietly.  "It 
was no different with me or the others."
	With a long, reserved breath, Yamato nodded and pocketed the tiny 
Sleep-Symbol into his pants.  "I'm going to keep him out for a good two 
days.  His wings should be a little better by then."
	"Time is not something we should be playing with right now." 
Lucifer warned.
	"I know." Yamato sighed, sitting back down.  "I just don't want 
to lose this chance."
	Lucifer nodded.  "Two days."
	"Then we start." Yamato said coldly.  
	"Then we start." Lucifer echoed. 





















                              Chapter 4








	The room was sealed.

	Michael looked up from the candles on the table and sighed.  "I 
brought Fiss back."
	Nobody said anything.  Fourteen Archangels sat around him, 
hunched over in the tiny room.  It was at the very top of the City, and 
was only a meter high near the walls that would stretch down and 
encompass the entire grounds on their base.  
	This was perhaps the most secure room in the entire universe.  
Pure stone surrounded by wall after wall of Theban that stopped any 
magic, sound, or thought from escaping or entering.  
	"You saw the Noize, then?" one asked.
	"No." Michael sighed gratefully.  "The Noize is something else 
entirely.  But I saw two more realities." He smiled.  "I picked the one 
closest, and went toward it.  It turned out to be the one Azrael 
originally made his exodus to."
	"Where is he?" Tsirya demanded.  "I did not see him in the group 
you brought back."
	"That's because he's dead." Michael said quietly.
	The group around him was silent as their Knight took a deep 
breath.  
	"He fell to his death in the Pool." SkitZ shook his head.  "I 
want all the Mages to see if anything can be done, is that clear?  
Research every alternative."
	"Why?" Tsirya shrugged.  "That's a lot of effort to bring another 
Azrael into the world."
	"He is NOT Azrael." Michael growled.  "His name was Christopher.  
He was like Azrael before the Fall.  He was my friend.  THAT is why I 
wish to bring him back."
	"We'll get on it as soon as possible." Anafiel suggested quietly.  
"What about the others?"
	"His family and friends." Michael said quickly.  "I want them 
protected.  I don't care at what cost.  We may have lost a Knight, but 
that group of his friends were able to destroy an entire Host of 
Jeremiel's angels without a single casualty."
	Jaws dropped and eyes were wide.  
	"That brings me to more good news." Michael allowed himself a 
wicked smile.  "Jeremiel is dead.  His sword is with us now as well."
	Half of the angels around him let out a long, happy sigh, the 
rest of them let out whoops of laughter and cheering.  
	"We must proceed very cautiously." SkitZ interrupted with a 
slightly louder voice than before, silencing the rest of them.  "Even 
though the general plans have failed, I did not count on Fiss' friends 
being so loyal." He closed his eyes.  "They truly are a great people.  
I wish our House had more like them.
	"They wish to avenge Christopher's death, and are willing to help 
us win this war." Michael continued after a brief pause.  "We've been 
weakened, and the battle will not be one with a certain outcome.  But I 
think that they might suffice in forming the edge we need over Azrael 
and his little pets." 
	That prompted smiles.  Even from Tsirya, who had maintained a 
fairly grumpy expression for the last hour and a half.  
	"Now." SkitZ nodded.  "What's been going on while I've been 
gone?"









	Just a few floors below the meeting, the Senshi were getting used 
to their quarters.  
	It was the entire floor of the pyramid.  Though high up, it was 
still as large as the biggest houses they had ever seen, and stretched 
all the way around the square hole in the middle of the City.  Each 
corner had a separate bedroom or bathroom, but the bulk of the space 
was dedicated to a rather luxurious living room.  Marble and carpet 
alternated on each side.  There was even a small garden and reflecting 
pool next to one of the private rooms.  Just across from it on the 
other side of the floor, there was a balcony, safe by a sturdy, but 
clear crystal railing.  It looked down upon the plaza seven thousand 
meters down, giving an awesome sense of vertigo and grandeur.  
	Sold oak and marble desks were covered to the edges with thick 
manuscripts that Dave was quietly investigating.  Blueprints to the 
City of SkitZ.  Maury had found the equivalent of a kitchen, and was 
getting something to eat, hoping he wouldn't mix two weird looking 
foods and get something poisonous.  
	Andrea and Demeter were relaxing in front of the pond, trying to 
enjoy the time off their feet.  Rei, Miharu and Beavis all sat on the 
balcony, looking out over the city.  "Chris..." Rei said to herself.  
"I hope you can see this." She smiled slightly as a tear rolled down 
her cheek.
	"I bet he can." Beavis offered helpfully.  
	Miharu said nothing, staring out over the expanse of open air.  
	"I remember..." Rei said slowly "...our last night together.  
I...I mean, I don't want to sound like everything's okay...but it was 
like he knew something was going to happen." She closed her eyes as a 
shudder went over her.  "Or, maybe it was just dumb luck." She smiled.  
"Chris was always good at that.  Just amazing, karma-like luck."
	Beavis smiled.  "Tell me about it."
	"We..." Rei continued after regrouping her thoughts.  "I mean, he 
shared a dream with me.  One of his dreams about us." Her smile was 
wide despite the tears.  "I don't think he realized that it was one of 
mine too."
	Beavis let out a sad squeak as he tried to refrain from crying.  
"He made me proud..." he choked.  "When he ran over the Elder in 
Calgary...I knew I was fighting for the right side then." He closed his 
little black eyes.  "Just follow Fiss, I used to think.  He knows what 
he's doing, even if he doesn't think so."
	"You two talk like he's already dead." Miharu whispered quietly.
	Beavis and Rei lowered their eyes.  "Miharu, I know there's 
always a chance..." her mom said quietly.  "I just need to keep faith 
right now."
	"No you don't." Miharu said, looking up at them.  "You think he's 
dead." Her voice was shaky...probably indicating tears if she hadn't 
already shed them all.  "You think we're next too.  This is all just a 
big 'who kills who first' war to you." She closed her eyes.
	Beavis opened his eyes and shook his head.  "That's not fair, 
Miharu." He stated flatly.  "We don't pretend to know what you think.  
You can't pretend to know how we do.  I knew your father longer than 
YOU did.  We've spent countless sunrises talking and philosophizing.  I 
know for a FACT he is not gone so long as we remember those talks and 
those final nights." He bristled his spines to make his point.  "I know 
that's how I'd like to be remembered."
	Miharu slowly stood, withdrew her sword, and SLAMMED it right 
into the floor, just like Chris would have done when he was out of 
words and pissed off.  Beavis and Rei both jumped slightly.  "He's NOT 
dead." She stared at Beavis.  "You can't kill an angel." She quickly 
rummaged around in her pockets, then threw something at the little 
hedgehog, walking off without waiting for his reaction. 
	Rei picked two feathers off of Beavis' back and nose.  One was 
slightly older.  The other was the one she 'found' on the trail two 
weeks ago.  They were identical. 
	Despite herself, Rei found her thoughts dissolved in tears a 
moment later.  "What's going on, Beavis?" she shuddered.  "Where is 
he?"
	"I don't know." Beavis admitted quietly. 

















                              Chapter 5










	It was exactly two days before Yamato took out another ruin from 
his pockets and placed it on Chris' head.  
	"And another thing..." Chris coughed, his voice muffled by sheets 
of cloth.  He glanced up, annoyed.  "Please don't do that."
	"It was the only way to calm you down." Yamato apologized.  "Does 
this hurt?" he suddenly wound up and smacked Chris on the back. 
	Despite the absence of the 'SMACK' sound he expected, Chris 
didn't feel too much.  Just a tingling at his shoulders.  "No...was it 
supposed to?"
	"Come on, then." Yamato threw Chris the two halves of his shirt.  
"Get dressed.  Your coat and pack are under the bed.  Don't forget your 
sword."
	Chris frowned.  Lucifer was somewhere else.  All the oil lamps 
had been extinguished, and Yamato's books were packed away in a 
backpack made out of Dominion hide.  The only light came from the sun 
outside, streaming in through a thick crystal window.  "What's going 
on?"
	"We have to leave." Yamato said with a smile.  "Your counterpart 
is on the move.  He might know where we are."
	"Azrael?" Chris blinked, putting on his shirt one half at a time.  
He didn't even WANT to look at his back at the moment.  It felt like 
there was nothing on it, but he couldn't be sure.
	"Yup." Yamato nodded.  "Lucifer's been scouting the traffic on 
the desert for a while.  Old Azrael is coming to one desert or the 
other, and we can't afford to give away the Pool right now." 
	"No shit.  He could instigate Armageddon with just one or two 
swords then." Chris nodded.
	That news seemed to be new to Yamato, and his jaw dropped.  "Oh 
my..."
	"That's what I said." Chris smiled, slipping into his trenchcoat.  
It felt smooth and light on his arms, and he welcomed it's dark 
coolness.  Once again, he was protected inside his clothes.  Where as 
Rei and possibly the other Senshi would sometimes complain about their 
suits, Chris relished the feeling of being ready for anything, locked, 
loaded, and ready to protect the things that he loved.  
	It seemed a bit tighter than usual, but he figured it was just 
because whatever was wrong with his back was still making it sensitive.  
Worry about that later.
	"In that case..." Yamato said, finishing the thought about the 
Pool.  "We better get the fuck out of here now."
	
	He raised his arms, and in a shimmer of light, the wall faded 
away just enough to be see-through.  He stepped through a moment later, 
taking his huge backpack with him.  Chris followed quickly, sword in 
hand.  
	The wall seemed to snap back into place as they emerged out into 
the desert.  Chris saw the Pool of Angels' hidden rock-outcrops a few 
dunes over.  "How did you find me down in that hole?" Chris asked as 
they began walking away from it.  
	"I saw you walking to the Pool, and recognized you." Yamato 
smiled, his ancient eyes crunching up past the comparatively youthful 
face he had.  "I wasn't sure, but while you were camped for the night, 
I went on ahead and waited in my little study back there." He frowned.  
"I didn't think you'd dive in though.  Lucifer and I barely managed to 
bring you back.  You're extremely lucky you had your sword with you."
	"It was unavoidable." Chris said as he rubbed his hands.  The 
bandages had come off, but they still were oiled with some kind of 
herbal ointment that smelled like wheat.  Only light scars remained.  
"My daughter slipped.  Had to go after her."
	Yamato stopped, and looked Chris over proudly.  "You have a 
DAUGHTER?" he laughed.  "Well well!  You grew up even faster than I 
thought!"
	"I've been teaching her our style of kenjutsu, too." Fiss said 
proudly.  "She's amazing.  I can keep up with her, but I doubt I would 
be able to trounce her outright in a fight.  It would be interesting."
	"How old is she?"
	"Fourteen this fall." Chris stated.  "She's adopted.  Rei and 
I..."
	"Rei?" Yamato frowned, then smiled.  "Oh yes.  I seem to recall 
you mentioning something about a Rei a long time ago before I was..." 
he laughed "well, before I went on a vacation from reality."
	Chris smiled again.  "You remember the stuff in the other 
universe?"
	"Lucifer helped a lot." Yamato nodded.  "Most of it was due to 
the Noize.  When you experience the Noize, you can cross the boundaries 
easier.  I've lost the ability to hear it." He took a shaky breath "Not 
that I miss it.  But it was very useful in catching up with what you 
and I did over back in Tokyo.  I would have never had memories of you 
if it wasn't for the Noize."
	Chris nodded, then raised an eyebrow.  "What's the story with old 
Lucy, anyway?"
	"He respects me." Yamato said.  "I helped him out once or twice, 
even after I knew he was a Fallen Angel.  He really took that to heart.  
Though he's still too caught up in his own Fall, I think one day he 
might be able to regain his Grace.  Rise again with his brothers."
	"So that's why you help him?" Chris nodded.
	"You had every right to hate him." Yamato cautioned.  "He's done 
unspeakable things to the souls he's captured.  Though our version of 
'Hell' isn't quite right, I have no doubt in my mind that the old 
priests in our universe had the right idea of what to expect from a 
Fallen Angel." He took a deep breath.  "But, lately, I've been able to 
keep him straight.  He's banished to the Word, and may never fully 
regain it...but I think he might have a chance."
	"My grandfather." Chris laughed proudly.  "Savior of the devil."
	They walked for a long few minutes, following the coast in the 
distance to the right.  "So tell me about Rei and your daughter." He 
said with a smile.  
	"Well, Miharu, she was almost eleven when we got her." His voice 
quieted slightly.  "An old enemy of mine killed her mother, and I 
promised I'd take care of her.  Didn't know until she died that it 
would have to be for longer than a week."
	"Who was her mother?"
	"Linna.  Of the Holy Single Sword temple." Chris replied.
	Yamato stopped dead in his tracks.  "She..."
	"Dead." Chris nodded sadly.
	Slowly, the older man caught up to Chris, and he nodded.  "Damn.  
She was...I mean, she was going to become my prot‚g‚ until she got 
pregnant."
	"Who was Miharu's father?" Chris asked.
	"I don't know." Yamato sighed.  "I had met her when she was 
already a few weeks pregnant, or as far as I could tell when later on 
she developed the first signs."
	"Mmm.  Well, as long as he wasn't Bill Gates, I'm happy." Chris 
laughed.  "Did you know he want on a killing rampage just after the 
Great Darkness?"
	"No shit!" Yamato laughed.
	"I shit you not!" Chris nodded.  "They were still looking for the 
pieces of his wife's body when we left.  I think they still have to 
find a foot and both her eyes."
	"Damn." Yamato shook his head.  "Creepy."
	"I actually saw a web-site on the net that was petitioning that 
he be given to Strike Fiss for capital punishment." He smiled.  "I 
rather enjoyed that site.  Someone drew a really neat anime picture of 
me slicing off Bill's head."
	The two of them chuckled slightly, then returned to the subject 
at hand.  "So, tell me about Miharu." Yamato smiled.  "She sounds like 
it was worth it for Linna to give up the art."
	Chris nodded.  "She is.  Wonderful kid.  A great mind, and I'm 
already having to make sure the boys don't give her the wrong looks." 
He shook his head.  "You know, she's the same age now that Sailor Moon 
was when she started."
	"Kids grow up so fast."
	Fiss nodded, not noticing the happy look on Yamato's face at the 
last statement.  "Yes, they do."
	"Rei." Yamato coughed.  "Tell me about her." He grinned.  "She 
sounds like an angel."
	"Please don't say that." Chris laughed.  "I've seen more angels 
in the last few days than I ever wanted to." He sighed.  "But yeah.  I 
think she is one.  A real one." He suddenly looked sad.  "Maybe angels 
aren't supposed to be this real.  I don't know.  It seems trivial now."
	"The ones you fought weren't angels." Yamato said gruffly.  "Not 
even close.  You.  Rei.  Michael, and even Lucifer was once an angel.  
An angel is defined by the State of Grace they represent and the Word 
they serve.  Not the wings on their back and their swords in the flesh 
of their enemies.
	"It's going to be hard to tell the angels from the devils here." 
He continued after a beat.  "But I think you'll find that both are 
real.  The true angels ARE angels."
	Chris nodded, regarding the man with a respect he held for few.  
"You're right.  I just gotta keep my faith, I suppose." He smiled at 
his own statement.  
	Yamato patted him on the shoulder.  "Now.  Tell me all the juicy 
details."
	"Well." Chris sighed happily.  "She's got these set of smiles.  
When she uses one, I can read her mind as clear as a book.  My favorite 
is the one I like to call 'dear god, I'm the luckiest bastard alive'-
smile."









	
	Michael looked out over the ocean as he did every dawn.  The 
sandstorms couldn't cross all the way out over the bay, so he relished 
the awesome sight that few ever saw in the summer.  
	He perched like a bird on the very top spire.  Though he probably 
could have balanced with aide of his wings, he held onto the metal pole 
that acted as a lightning rod.  His coat hung past his feet.  
	Somewhere, Azrael planned and schemed.  He had taken Michael's 
absence for granted, and used every second of it.  The reports were 
disturbing, but not anything SkitZ hadn't been expecting.
	They had lost another Host, keeping the border free of Fiss' 
rather annoying Scouts.  It had cost Azrael and his allies at least 
that much...close to double...but they had much more to replace the 
dead, while SkitZ only had a limited supply.  Even when it came down to 
that, the words Dave had screamed out over the battle had begun to get 
to him.
	They had to find a better way to war. Gobs and gobs of death.  
Thrown at each other until someone won.  Each snowflake in every 
snowball was an angel.  A giant snow-ball fight of death.
	If Michael gave in and let more of his people go to the Pool, 
that would compromise the Pool's secrets.  It was a hard trade-off, but 
they would have to make due with their current armies.
	Only ten hosts remained.  Three of them were out on patrol.  That 
was still an impressive army...but against the final assault, it would 
probably not stand.  
	Not to mention the other Houses not loyal to Fiss were fairing 
much worse.  Though nearly impossible to know for sure, the best 
estimates showed Bri had only three Hosts and a scatter of High Mages 
left.  Vohal had only another Host on top of that.  
	Also from the estimates, Azrael and his allies had at least ten 
more Hosts to spare before they were even close to being even.
	Knights, however, were a more even number.  They had a chance at 
an all out war so long as SkitZ could get the others together with him.  

	Now, on to the REAL bad news.

	The House was getting restless.  Rumors were spreading that 
Michael had been fucking around with reality.  That the House was close 
to collapse.  That the food would run out in a month.  That Azrael was 
already winning the war, and he was toying with the SkitZ for fun.  
That the rest of the Houses had already fallen.  
	Rumors didn't usually fuck with their heads that much.  However, 
it was war.  All was fair in love and war.  Even the unfair stuff.

	The trickle was slow, but real.  People had begun to leave the 
City.  Leave the land around the City as well.  The food would level 
off nicely as there would be less people to feed.  At least that was 
one less thing to worry about.

	The dark purple sky flashed with a sudden yellow flare as the 
heated sand swept over the continent behind him.  The ocean lit up in 
the sunrise.  Perfect, crystal blue water lay out before Michael's 
eyes.  Water that had seen no pollution.  The air clouded only by 
campfire smoke and the blood of wars fought far away.  It looked so 
perfect.  If only for the sunrise.

	Gray-peppered wings lifted off his back as he caught the air that 
gusted with the sun.  His mind focused just enough so that the Noize 
was hidden in the silent gospel of light before him.  It was the only 
time of the day he could escape from it's quiet torture.  
	
	Again, he felt like an angel.

	For a brief few seconds, he remembered what all this was about.  
All the war.  All the slaughter.  All the angels destroyed and the 
clipped wings of the Fallen.  

	Michael wrapped his wings against his body like a cloak.  "Come 
on SkitZ." He said quietly, patting the side of his sword.  "We have a 
Revelations to win."






















                            Chapter 6









	Time.  That's all they had it seems.  

	Days went by without anything happening.  Michael had been 
catching up on the running of his House, and they only saw him once or 
twice a day	when he came to visit and update the Senshi.  Dave had 
found a new pastime with the scriptures he had been allowed to look at 
involving the city, and Miharu either slept, or practiced with her 
sword.  
	Not that Rei minded.  Gave her time to think.
	At about four a.m. every night, the City would quiet down to a 
whisper.  She found herself enjoying those times the most.  If she 
thought about it, she could almost pretend it was another quiet night 
with Chris at her side.
	
	The plaza was deserted.  Turned down to only half-power, the main 
fountain only hovered a dozen meters high, letting the lights in the 
pool dim enough not to disturb anyone's sleep.  A residual purple glow 
from the power crystal above cast a haunting twilight across the stone 
and park expanse.  

	Sounds only came in the form of the fountain and her shoes 
hitting the concrete walk.  "Michael says that we might still have a 
chance." Rei whispered to herself, hoping Chris was able to hear.  "We 
need to gather up some forces for a surprise counter-offensive, but it 
shouldn't be too hard.  Maury and SkitZ are going to visit one of the 
other Knights.  Someone named Gabriel."
	She smiled to herself.  "I found out why everyone here has 'el' 
on the end of their names.  It means God, or in relation to him.  He 
must have been a really nice guy if everyone named their kids in honor 
of him.
	"So that will take another week or two, just to get the forces." 
She paused, shivering slightly.  "We'll be heading the attack.  The 
Houses are going to fight against the main offensive when it comes.  
Then, like usual, we get the fun job.  Sneak-Attack Azrael while he's 
relaxing and waiting for his Hosts to report back victorious."
	A lonely breeze was her only company.  
	"Even if they lose the war, Azrael will be dead, and the Knights 
might actually fall back in line and work together instead of war with 
each other." She looked around for a place to sit.  Finding no bench, 
she settled on a small grassy knoll just out of range of the fountain's 
misty spray.  "The only problem with the plan that I can see is that we 
can't do anything until the final assault."
	
	She looked back up into the false sky, up to where the others 
were probably asleep in their lofty beds.  A slow, sad shudder passed 
through her body.  "Miharu's not doing so good.  She is all ice and 
dispassionate towards your..." she stopped before she could mouth the 
word.  
	"It's killing her inside." Rei whispered, unable to speak much 
louder than that.  "Though she denies it...even to herself, I think she 
blames herself for what happened." A long pause.  "Every moment you're 
gone, she slips a little more.  This fucking war isn't helping, 
either."
	She stood suddenly.  Sleep.  She needed to sleep before she got 
carried away with herself.  As she stood, though, it hit.  The last two 
weeks of silent torture.  The memory of watching him slip into that 
black hole in the ground, filled with the false hope that he would 
emerge a perfectly restored Fiss.  It took a second for her to realize 
what the sound had been.  His death.  
	That sound filled her mind.  It echoed and spread and got louder.  
It turned into her own personal Noize, and crashed through the defenses 
she had erected so carefully to spare Miharu her tears.

	Rei Hino cried.

	She dropped to her knees, too weak to stand.  Barely a sound came 
from her.  Only the lonely shuddering of sobs as they wracked her 
chest.  

	Suddenly, her tear-blurred eyes saw something at her knees.  

	She looked up, wiping away the tears quickly, suddenly 
embarrassed.  "Sorry..." she whispered, thinking it was one of the 
Senshi.
	A tiny little man with a golden clip in his almost non-existent 
baby hair smiled sadly back at her with a chubby face.  A'albiel 
offered her a silent cloth for her tears.  
	"Thanks." Rei smiled despite herself.  She began to dry her 
cheeks.
	A'albiel smiled brightly, but his eyes showed sympathy for her 
tears.  In a tiny, yet mature voice he said "It's okay.  Everything 
will be okay."
	Rei blinked.  "I...I thought you Cherubs didn't talk?"
	The little angel smiled and nodded.  "We don't usually talk.  But 
sometimes, we make an exception."
	She shook her head.  "For a pathetic woman who would rather cry 
about things she can't change in the middle of the night than get some 
sleep?" she sniffed.  
	He nodded.  "We only speak to those who shed honest tears." He 
knelt down and maneuvered so he flopped down on his ass to sit.  "It's 
what we do best."
	Rei regarded him silently, finishing cleaning up her tears.  
	"I knew the old Fiss." He said silently.  "If this Christopher 
was anything like that, he'll be missed by everyone here." He sighed, 
reaching into his diaper-like pants and taking out a cigarette.  
	Rei blinked.
	"Got a light?" A'albiel asked politely.
	She held up her fingers and let a small flame 'goo' out from her 
glove.  The Cherub lit up and nodded his thanks. 
	"That's some pretty amazing fire." He said, taking a few puffs 
from his butt.  "I'll send up one of the Fire Mages tomorrow afternoon 
if you'd like.  He can start to show you what you can do with it here."
	"I'd like that." Rei smiled.  It was the truth.  Without her fire 
acting like usual, she felt confused and useless of late.  It was not 
helping her mood, that was for sure.  "Maury might like it too.  He's 
been anxious to try out his powers."
	"Good, good." He nodded.  Taking another light puff, he 
continued.  "Now, is there anything you need?  Tonight?"
	"Well...I guess I just needed a good cry." Rei sighed, checking 
her face and brushing away any moisture she found with the back of her 
hand.  "A good night's sleep would be nice, though." She smiled.  "I 
guess you can't help with that, though."
	A'albiel frowned with mock hurt in his little eyes.  "Why, Rei 
Hino!  I'm shocked!  You don't think a celestial body such as myself 
could offer you a simple good night's sleep?" he smiled, then snapped 
his fingers.
	Rei blinked, and was suddenly in her bed a few thousand feet 
above.  A'albiel hovered next to her, his smoke gone.  He raised his 
finger.  "Sweet dreams, Rei Hino." 
	
	She slid down in her covers, suddenly asleep.

	The little Cherub smiled to himself.  "I love my job." He 
whispered to himself proudly, then disappeared in a brief shimmer of 
rosy light.  

	
	








	This was a Holy place.  Blessed by the Mages of ancient times and 
untouched by anything but the Archangels and Cherubim.  In fact, great 
feats of both magic and engineering went in to keeping it that way.  
	Way back, before the Noize, it had been cooperatively sealed from 
the outside world by both the houses of SkitZ and Fiss.  Though nobody 
in their right mind would dare defy either house's decree that it be 
left alone, they had to make sure.  After all, this was a Holy place.

	Lucifer hated it.

	It reeked of his old brother's magic, and the others who, later 
on, realized they too had power to deter the Fallen Angels from 
entering.  Over the years, however, he had managed to work his way past 
the spells, one by one.  Though he couldn't enter as easily as the 
others, he had finally gained access to the Cave of Thrones.  
	And, strange as it was, he was not here for what was in the cave.  
He was here for who would be coming.  Though he had yet to face Azrael 
face to face, Lucifer was looking forward to it tonight.
	The darker side of his mind hated Azrael simply because he was 
Knight.  Reigning above as Lucifer once did.  Azrael had Fallen, yet he 
still held power over this pitiful little planet.  
	Yet, at the same time, he realized that this man was a threat not 
only to his power, but existence.  Yamato had convinced him of this.  
That was not an easy task.  Lucifer had a personal policy of destroying 
the souls of people who fed him lies.  Even if it had been his old 
teacher and the blacksmith who forged his sword.
	Don't think about that now, he told himself.  You'll just get 
pissed off again.  He punched the rock wall, putting a hole through it.  
Ahh, better.  Rock:  The ultimate in stress relief.

	He perched high above the entrance, hidden by the natural cave 
formations and some of his own special brand of Theban.  The kind of 
stuff that wasn't even taught anymore.  Anyone who even TRIED to look 
past the script would probably die, or at least, go quite nicely 
insane.  
	But, for now, he just looked like a small, cave-dwelling slug, 
even though his body was about forty thousand times bigger.  Such were 
the ways of the Fallen: When people were expecting dragons and demons, 
give them slugs and mice.  They'll never see you coming.  
	His face dropped slightly.  Then again, a dragon might be nice in 
a place like this.  Any kind of company would have been nice, actually, 
but the small band of Fallen that he used to lead before the Noize were 
no longer desirable company...not that they were to begin with.  
	Though everyone in that universe had heard the Noize when it 
came, only the higher Knights and the Fallen Angels had remembered it 
later on.  For the Fallen, it was even worse.  They had no way to block 
it, or anything true within their pitiful souls to counteract the 
destructive memories it caused.  Lucifer was old, wise, and powerful 
enough that he was able to overcome the Noize as Michael had, yet just 
like the Knight of SkitZ, he was far from free of it.
	He could hear it right now.  It was like an incessant buzzing.  
The sound of screams and death and time collapsing into void.  Every 
once in a while, he could hear a scream he recognized.  Perhaps of a 
soul he had taken or one of the Knights.  He had even heard Michael's 
painful cries as time ripped itself apart.  Instead of being pleased at 
his advisory's destruction, the sound shook him to the bones.  Michael 
was perhaps the only worthy Knight left.  A true Angel.  Lucifer was 
afraid of anything that could cause that much sheer terror in such a 
man.
	Years after the Noize, he had yet to hear Azrael's screams, 
though.  The man had escaped just before Bone Man had finished 
slaughtering the Knights.  That was one of the points of proof that 
Yamato had provided.  Azrael had escaped.  He knew of the destruction 
before it happened and did nothing to stop it.  History would repeat 
itself; they would be forever silenced by the Noize when it came again.  
	Even if this had been the only proof...it was enough alone to 
keep Lucifer on edge.  Enough to make him side with a mortal and fight 
on the side of Michael for the first time in their universe's 
existence...even though Michael would probably never know of it.  
Enough to take a chance on this little man, Christopher.  Hoping that 
he could replace Azrael.  
	Enough to risk coming to the Cave of Thrones and stop Azrael by 
any means possible.  
	
	Hours past as he contemplated the events of late.  

	It did not matter.  Lucifer knew of patience better than any 
angel.  He would wait for stars to burn out if it fit the situation.  
Each moment was another moment that Yamato and Christopher had to start 
the plan.  Each was one moment closer to the battle with Azrael.  
Lucifer had learned much from Michael, and he would not be defeated so 
easily this time.  
	The only thing of concern to him now was the stench that emanated 
from deeper inside the cave.  Not an unpleasant smell...but more 
powerful than a room full of Grat Spice.  It smelled of wind and earth 
colliding together with fire and water.  
	That smell was the reason Azrael was coming to the cave.  It was 
also the reason why Lucifer was more on edge than he had been in 
centuries.  

	Someone was coming.  The howling outside increased slightly, then 
died down as a large shadow was cast through the entrance of the cave.  
Lucifer smiled.  Show time.






















                               Chapter 7










	They had stopped at a small lake for the night.  This one was 
about two times bigger than the one he had seen on the way to the Pool, 
but it seemed almost a replica of the scene.  Luckily, he and Yamato 
hadn't run into any Canopy Dominions this time, and their hike across 
the land had been very peaceful.  
	When asked where they were going, Yamato explained simply that 
they needed to put some distance between them and the House of Fiss, 
who were probably swarming over the battle field to this day.  Any time 
a Knight was killed, the Houses went ape-shit over it.  It had only 
happened half a dozen times in the history of the world.  
	Chris explained how Dave had Jeremiel's sword, and Yamato 
laughed, mentioning it would drive Azrael crazy that he couldn't have 
it.  So long as the sword was safe with Dave, they had a little extra 
time to stop whatever Azrael was planning to do with the Keys.  
	Mostly, however, they stayed quiet in the forest.  While the 
desert had been hot, it also offered little ambush spots.  In the 
forest, anyone and anything could be in the trees and bush.  Chris kept 
an almost constant look to the sky.  "I wish there was some way to scan 
for the buggers." Chris sighed.
	"You depend too much on technology." Yamato mentioned with a 
smile.  "You've gotten soft."
	"I don't put down anything that lets me have access to ninety-
four percent of all the anime on Earth." Chris retorted as he unpacked 
his tent.  
	"I suppose." He nodded, gathering some wood for a fire.  
	He walked over to the brush, and stabbed his arm down into the 
roughage, pulling out a squeaking Cooker.  Yamato then tossed the 
little furry spider-like animal into the fire pit, and a second later, 
it burst into flames.  Chris' eyes were wide.
	"Don't feel bad for it." Yamato smiled.  "Cookers are worse than 
locusts and Tribbles put together.  They're also dumb as bricks."
	"Interesting place." Chris laughed.  "Don't suppose Jolt grows on 
trees, does it?"
	"Sorry." Yamato said, feeding the fire a little more.  "Just 
oranges that taste like pineapples and star-fruit with ten sides."
	"The raspberries taste like raspberries!  The shnozberries taste 
like shnozberries!" 
	"Uh, yeah." 
	"You mean to tell me you've never seen Charlie and the Chocolate 
Factory?" Chris shook his head.  "Poor man!"
	"You watch too many movies as well." 
	"And if I didn't, I'd never be here in the first place." Chris 
raised an eyebrow.  "I would have never even come to Japan.  I would 
have stayed at home the rest of my life, sitting at the computer and 
screwing around with badly-commented C++ code or something while 
watching the latest episodes of some little girl's anime show that had 
been dubbed over into English using annoying Disney voices."
	Yamato blinked.  He had a point.  "Mmm, I suppose so."
	"Entertainment is meant to show us worlds we don't usually see." 
Chris continued on his little preaching spell.  "Let us sample 
everything before we are either decided a path or forced onto one in 
life." He shrugged.  "Even if I didn't become a Senshi, at least all 
those old samurai movies taught me the world with honor and excitement.  
Showed me that I could fight back against all the assholes out there 
and still not become one of them." He looked around at the dark trees 
around them.  "And even if I wasn't here...even if I was just sitting 
back at home, working on a new computer game or maybe just sketching 
away...I'd still be a better person." He smiled.  "Life's a journey.  
But it helps to have a map so you can decide what roads will take you 
where you want to go."
	"I stand corrected." Yamato chuckled slightly.  "If Wily Wonka 
can teach you to be a better person, then there is indeed a good side 
to him."
	"You HAVE seen it!" Chris laughed.
	He smiled.  "No.  But I have the book back at home."
	"Even better." Chris nodded.
	They stared at the fire for a moment in silence.  "I suppose you 
want to know where we're going?" Yamato said.
	"It would be nice." Chris nodded.  "I would imagine the others 
are back at the House of SkitZ.  I'd like to get there soon.  Rei's 
probably having kittens.  Hopefully Beavis told her about how I came 
back after Tumbler."
	"That's something I want to talk to you about when we get there." 
Yamato sighed.  "I can't really show you now until you see it.  But it 
will explain everything."
	"Where?" Chris pressed.
	Yamato sighed.  "Well, it's in the next valley.  An artificial 
crater...though nobody here knows it isn't man-made.  Or angel-made, 
for that matter."
	"An artificial crater?" Chris raised an eyebrow.  "Who made it?"
	"You'll see when we get there." Yamato replied.  "Trust me on 
this.  You won't get it if I say it anyway."
	"Okay." Chris sighed.  "Why not.  I've waited this long."
	"Also, I noticed you had a Theban book with you." Yamato said.  
"You read it all yet?"
	"One page left." Fiss nodded.  "I was thinking I'll read it 
tonight."
	"Save it for tomorrow." Yamato shook his head.  "In the crater.  
Read it then.  The prophecy should explain everything you need."
	Chris considered this for a moment.  SkitZ's mom had said she 
knew what each of his prophecies would be when he read the book.  Each 
time, they seemed to fit with his journey over the last few weeks...if 
not also directing it to the right directions.  
	"Good idea."  Chris replied.  "Seems to work better with some 
dramatic event anyway."
	"That's the entire point of the books." Yamato nodded.  "To guide 
new Angels.  You're very lucky to have one, actually.  Not many had 
that chance.  Only about ten of those books were ever written, and most 
were destroyed in the first Revelations."
	"There was another war?"
	"Of course." Yamato nodded.  "Happened a long time ago, even 
before all this Armageddon stuff."
	"What does it mean, anyway?" Chris sighed.  "I'm beginning to 
wish I grew up around nuns or something.  Maybe I'd have some clue of 
what was going on."
	"Forget all that." Yamato smiled.  "This universe is NOT based on 
what nuns believe in.  Think of it as the Old Book, a side of Dead Sea 
Scrolls, and take out Genesis." He shook her head.  "Jesus, Moses and 
all of that never happens, though.  God, however..." he raised an 
eyebrow.  "Nobody's heard from him for...well...EVER."
	"Oh?"
	"Not since Revelations One." Yamato nodded.  "Michael and Lucifer 
were the major players.  The other Knights stayed out of the way, 
waiting to side with whoever was left standing.  Gabriel actually was 
with Michael, and she helped keep the others out of it."
	"Why were Michael and Lucifer fighting?" Chris shrugged.  "I 
mean, I can see why everyone's against Azrael for the whole nuke-the-
universe problem..."
	"Well, the Azer brothers never spoke after the creation of the 
Pool.  It was strange.  Even when God was beginning to see how Lucifer 
was being corrupted by the power and the control over their universe, 
they were as close as any brothers." Yamato shook his head.  "But then, 
after the Pool, they were never seen together.
	"The other Archangels started to realize that with their new 
power, the could actually start vying for a piece of the universe.  The 
Knights mostly stayed neutral.  At the time, the Word was strong, and 
they stayed good and true."
	"What's the Word again?"
	"The Virtues." Yamato said.  "You'll start to figure it out when 
your wings get better."
	Chris looked nervously back at his shoulders.  
	"Anyway, so anyone with a Key kinda stayed to themselves.  The 
other Archangels started little wars, but nothing major.  There's a 
good hundred or so Archangels.  After a while, though, they realized 
that nothing much was coming of this silly little power struggle, and 
started siding with the Knights.  If you can't beat them, join them."
	"Sounds like pretty much any war." Chris nodded.
	"Very true." Yamato nodded, pushing some more wood into the slow, 
burning lake of gooey fire.  "All angels have powers...just that only 
the Knights seem to realize how to use it.  True miracles take more 
than wings." He smiled, looking at Chris.  "It takes someone with a 
good heart."
	"My heart hasn't exploded from all the Jolt I drink yet, so I 
must qualify." Chris smiled back.
	"Anyway, back to the big fight." Yamato cleared his throat.  
"Michael had not yet become a Knight.  He was, however, perhaps the 
first REAL angel that the Pool had made in a long time.  He saw what 
Lucifer had become.  He saw that if Lucifer kept that much 
power...well...it wouldn't be very nice." He shrugged.  "So, he 
challenged Lucifer to a battle."
	"Cool." Chris smiled.
	"Lucifer accepted, thinking Michael was just a tourist in the 
world he helped create.  What he didn't realize was that Michael fought 
with the Word behind him.  He fought as an angel should.  For what he 
thought and believed to be right and noble."
	"What happened?"
	Yamato smiled.  "Michael flipped Lucifer over his shoulder, tore 
off one of his wings, and was starting for the other before Lucifer 
realized he didn't have a chance.  Old Lucifer managed to get away 
before Michael killed the poor dog.  That didn't save his sword, 
though."
	"Michael has Lucifer's sword?" Chris blinked.
	The older man nodded happily.  "Gives new meaning to the words 
'tool of the devil,' doesn't it?"
	"So that's why Lucifer's so pissed off at Michael?"
	"Yup." Yamato nodded.  "But, he's willing to set aside his 
feelings to stop Azrael.  Michael will probably never even know that 
the devil is helping out."
	"So that was Revelations?"
	"Basically." Yamato nodded.  "It's a lot more complicated, but 
that was the big fight that ended it."
	"Sounds like a gangster movie." Chris smiled.
	"Or a western."





















                            Chapter 8







	"Why are we here again?" Raphael asked as they moved through the 
darkness.
	Azrael turned to the huge man with a raised eyebrow.  
	"Okay, okay...I KNOW why we're here.  I just want to know why you 
want to wake the Thrones."
	"I can handle him.  We only need one."
	"You'd only need one if you were going to destroy the heavens!" 
Raphael retorted.  "If you start playing with THEM like they were toys, 
that's EXACTLY what will happen!"
	"You worry too much." Azrael said.  "Don't you trust my 
judgement?  After all this time?"
	"Even God was known to make mistakes." Raphael said with a 
slightly shaky voice.  He normally wasn't this persistent.  "You don't 
NEED to wake the Throne!  Your power is greater than ever!  This is 
foolish and I will NOT be a part of it!"
	Azrael shot the huge angel a look of pure ice.  "Then leave."
	Raphael's heart stopped for a moment as he realized his own 
words.  "My...m...m...Lord..."
	"Stay or go.  But if you call me a fool again, I'll sharpen my 
axe with your spine." Azrael growled, moving into the cave faster.  
	Raphael kept up, just barely.  "Forgive me, Azrael.  You know I 
am with you...I just want to see you succeed."
	"That is why I have not killed you long ago, my friend." replied 
the little angel.  "Just pray I don't overlook that fact when I lose my 
temper."
	They walked forward in silence for what had to be nearly an hour.  
Time seemed to fly like wind in this deserted holy cavern.  Much larger 
than even the Pool of Angels, it seemed to go on forever.  To Raphael's 
recollection, nobody had ever dared to map out the cave.  Guesses to 
how far it stretched on were proven incorrect on many quests into the 
darkened realm.  
	Tiny glowing creatures offered the only light, and skittered 
everywhere in a kind of glowing spider-web pattern that shifted and 
skittered as the two Archangels moved past.  It was just enough to see 
a dark shape on the cave wall a few lengths ahead.  

	"Azrael..." a low, dark voice hissed through the darkness.
	
	"Lucifer..." Azrael whispered.  His black crow wings were already 
ruffled.  
	Raphael was next, speaking in action, rather than words.  With an 
angry growl, he yanked his blade off of his hip...a twisted, root-like 
weapon that seemed to be almost organic, yet when it hit the dark rock 
ahead, made a solid metal CLANG!  
	A low, sinister laugh echoed through the cave.  Raphael pulled 
his sword free of the rock, angry that he did not see blood on the tip.  
Azrael raised his hand, calling Raphael off.  "Shhhh." He told the 
angel.  "Lucifer likes his little games."
	Slowly, appearing out of nothing like a Cheshire Cat, a row of 
gleaming white teeth slit open in the darkness behind them.  "Have you 
ever played hopscotch with eyeballs?" Lucifer whispered.  "It's much 
more exciting than throwing rocks across the ground."
	Both angels turned.  The wide arch of Raphael's 'sword' slit 
through the smile, leaving nothing but vapor.  "Dammit!" Raphael 
bellowed.  "Come out here and FIGHT like an Angel!"
	"Ahh..." Lucifer's voice surrounded them.  "But as you are so 
quick to point out, I am no angel." A small chuckle.  "But I suppose 
compared to you little devils, I am."
	"Devils hide in darkness." Azrael whispered back.  "I am the 
light." His wings unfolded.  "I thought you knew."
	With that, a bright flash shot out from Azrael, flooding the 
passage with a blinding magnesium-white flare.  Standing a few meters 
away was a blob of darkness, however, that seemed to fight back against 
the light.  Another smile split the near perfect black.  "Tell me, 
Azrael." Lucifer said.  "Do you do birthday parties too?"
	"Funny."
	"I'm not without my sense of humor." Lucifer nodded as he stepped 
out of the ball of blackness.  "That's why I'm warning you before I 
kill you.  Why don't you leave the poor Thrones alone?  You know how 
angry they are if they don't get their beauty sleep."
	"Since when do you give much more than a first thought about the 
Thrones?" Azrael asked quietly.  "I thought you were busy picking the 
maggots out of your ass."
	"Only on weekends, my friend." Lucifer crossed his arms.  "Now 
that we've had our little fun, what do you say I kill you.  If you're 
feeling sporting, perhaps I'll just tie some meat onto your legs and we 
can let you visit the Thrones after all."
	"That won't be necessary." Azrael said with a small smile.  
"Raphael, please kill him."  The Knight gave Lucifer one last smile, 
then turned around and continued on.
	Lucifer frowned.  This wasn't part of the plan.  Raphael wasn't 
supposed to be here.  That giant wall of an Archangel blocking his 
path was NOT part of the whole idea of stopping Azrael.  In fact, it 
kinda put a kink into the plan.  
	Raphael had a rather smug look on his face.  "Been here long?  
You smell like shit."
	"That would be your boss.  The air's moving my way." 
	The whistling thrust of metal forced Lucifer to dodge the massive 
beast of a sword.  He raised an eyebrow and looked up.  "You 
eat too much beef, don't you?"
	Raphael had a grim look on his face as he swung his sword back to 
his side.  "If you EVER talk that way about Lord Azrael again, I will 
not kill you so quickly."
	"LORD Azrael?" Lucifer laughed.  "LORD??!?"
	With a frown, Raphael took a step back.  
	The youngest Azer brother shook his head.  "Do you even know what 
your name means?"
	"My name?" Raphael blinked.
	"It means 'God has Healed'.  Raphael is a homage to the first 
angels.  A race of beings that you wouldn't even know if one came up 
and cast a miracle on your ass." Lucifer shook his head.  "It does not 
mean 'Slave of Azrael'."
	Raphael grumbled something under his breath, but did nothing.
	"You disrespect your own name when you follow that..." Lucifer 
sneered.  "THING.  I don't even know what to call him anymore.  He's no 
angel, I can tell you that right now.  He's not a man.  No man has that 
much power without the knowledge to use it."
	With a quick jab and slice, Raphael spoke once more with his 
sword.  Though slow, Lucifer probably would have been crushed into 
three pieces before he hit the ground.  The blade was actually about 
five chunks of metal wound together, each ending in a razor sharp 
point.  
	Lucifer had enough.  Long, ragged wings that seemed made from 
soot fell from his coat, then wrapped around his arms.  "And I thought 
angels liked to philosophize." His wings seemed to split and form into 
long claws.  Each curved slightly at the end.
	A low, animal-like growl escaped the devil's throat as he jumped 
at Raphael.  Claw found Raphael's armor, and a long scratch glanced off 
of it.  Raphael answered back, though, and pinned Lucifer against the 
wall with a meaty arm to his neck.
	That turned out to be a mistake as Lucifer nearly took off 
Raphael's arms with a upwards clawing punch.  "Play nice, of I won't." 
Lucifer laughed as he was dropped.
	"Angels don't play." Raphael growled.
	"And that's why you never have any fun." Lucifer sighed.  "Too 
much time spent hating.  Nobody has fun anymore.  I know, because I 
used to be an angel before angels even existed." He ducked a quick 
swing from the Knight and continued like it was nothing.  "Angels are 
love, not hate."
	Raphael paused for a second.  His eyes were hazy.  
	"Hate is my job, Raphael." Lucifer hissed.  "I don't want it 
anymore.  I'm tired of it."
	"Then let me put you out of your misery." Raphael said with a 
heavy sigh.  

	They stood, facing each other like statues.  Each of the men 
planning attacks.

	Then, quick as lightning, both leapt at each other again.  Savage 
throws from each of their weapons glanced off of golden armor and slid 
too close for comfort to cloak.
	"YEAHH!" the fallen angel yelled, and raised his arms.  The walls 
began to bleed darkness.  
	Raphael took a step back, not sure what to expect.  From behind 
Lucifer came a noise.  A horrible noise.  Slithering and the tapping of 
a million tiny feet against the stone floor.  Like a tidal wave, 
thousands of insects began to explode from behind Lucifer, throwing 
themselves at Raphael.
	Even the mountain of a man couldn't keep his footing with such a 
force against him, and he tumbled, instantly covered with black, greasy 
parasites, driven by Lucifer's magic.  Hundreds of tiny pincers and 
jaws tried to claim archangel flesh.
	But even as Lucifer was getting ready to move past the slithering 
mass, there was the sound of a pair of wings flapping, and the ball of 
insects exploded out and turned into a red and black paste on the 
cave's walls.  Raphael stood quickly, much quicker than his bulk should 
have allowed, and pointed his sword at Lucifer, who only had time to 
become wide-eyed before the massive chunk of metal slammed into his 
chin.  
	Spinning head over heels, Lucifer finally hit the wall and slid 
down to the ground.  His mouth was a bloody smear.  "Shiite!" he 
coughed.  Any mortal man would have had his head cleaved off from such 
a strike.  "You know..." Lucifer said, wiping away the blood with his 
sleeves.  "You're just as crazy as Azrael if you're letting him wake 
the Thrones."
	Raphael just frowned at him.  "I was just thinking that I don't 
know where Fallen like you go when they are destroyed." He smiled 
slightly through his thick, white beard.  "I hope you have a chance at 
Heaven.  Then you'll see what you're missing."
	"I'll remember that when I'm looking up at Heaven's ashes." 
Lucifer growled.  "Especially when you beg to be let into my realm." 
	"I doubt that." Raphael chuckled as he raised his sword. 
	"Oh you will." Lucifer nodded.  "Because the alternative is worse 
than you could ever imagine." He closed his eyes, and they were 
surrounded by darkness once again.

	Raphael swung wildly at Lucifer's shadow, but the fallen angel 
had already escaped.
	
	"Damn."





















                            Chapter 9










	

	Two fluttering trenchcoats trailed behind them as they stood, 
sliding effortlessly through the ocean mist.  Maury and Michael hung 
onto a small safety strap that was fastened to the wooden plank they 
traveled on.  This one was only slightly bigger than the fairy they had 
used to go to the City of SkitZ, but it was a lot faster.  
	"Who's this Gabriel, anyway?" Maury asked as he wiped away the 
sea-spray from his round sunglasses.
	"A witch." SkitZ smiled.  "She's the only original Knight left.  
I still can't figure out how old she is."
	"Mm, should be interesting." Mo nodded.  "Why do we need her 
help?"
	"Well, she is a Knight.  But the weakest one of us." Michael 
said.  "The House of Vohal doesn't have much of an army left, either.  
But, she's the key to locating Cassiel."
	Maury sighed.  "And who's that?"
	Michael glanced over to Maury with a mischievous grin.  "Very 
sweet."
	"Mm, color me interested." Mo nodded quickly.  
	"But Cass is also quite shy...and a little insane." SkitZ said.  
"After the Noize started, she managed to cast some kind of spell over 
the Bri City, and nobody's been able to find it since."  Her hosts 
appear out of nowhere, and always come from a random direction.  Even 
Fiss admits to not having the slightest idea where it is."
	Their tiny little 'boat' had been speeding around the peninsula 
for hours now, finally coming upon the main continent again.  The two 
had chatted idly, catching up on events of importance like how to make 
rice-crispy squares and why you shouldn't kill Dominions.  Each had 
brought a small traveling pack.  They didn't need much, since the 
entire trip would be via the boat-plank, not counting a quick jog past 
the beach.  
	They sky was foggy for an afternoon, but they could still see the 
shore as they sped along.  Michael informed Maury that that was a good 
thing.  If they lost sight of the shore, the script powering the boat 
could probably self-destruct and the little plank would speed off into 
a number of different directions.  
	"So do you think Chris is still alive?" SkitZ asked suddenly.
	Maury said nothing for a long time.  "Well..." he sighed.  "I 
suppose it wouldn't be the first time."
	"I'm sending my best mages to the books." Michael nodded.  
"They're checking everything.  Seeing if there's any way to bring a 
Knight back  It's a long shot, but what the hell.  Those guys are 
overpaid anyway."
	"If not, at least he didn't go all crazy." Maury said.
	"Yup."
	They contemplated in silence for a long time.  

	That was until a rather large ball of fire hit the water just 
ahead of them, throwing steam up around the boat and rocking them 
almost right off.  
	"Ahh...Gabriel's welcoming party." Michael grinned wickedly.  "I 
hate these assholes."
	"I thought she was on our side!" Maury ducked as a wave of water 
shot over their heads with enough force to take them off. 
	Three figures could be seen on the water, strolling towards them 
like they were on solid rock.  Long, red robes billowed behind them, 
and their faces were covered in what looked like blue cloth.  SkitZ 
blinked.  "Holy shit..."
	"WHAT?" Maury asked.
	"Those aren't mages..." SkitZ' wings ruffled.  "Those are her 
Nephilim."
	"Her WHAT?"
	"Do you know what keeps the Knights from killing and destroying 
all day long?" Michael asked quickly.
	"Uh...karma?"
	"No!  The Seven Virtues." He pointed to the three approaching 
robed figures.  "Those things have most of the power of an angel, but 
none of the rules."
	"Oh fuck..."
	"Exactly!" Skitz spread his wings.  "I suggest we kill them 
quickly!" he took out his sword and took to the sky.
	"WAIT!" Maury grumbled, left alone on the little raft.  "Fine...I 
can do that TOO!" he closed his eyes, and his coat turned into a trail 
of plasma.  
	
	But then it didn't do anything.  

	Maury looked behind himself.  Instead of rocketing forward, his 
flare was trailing behind him like a large party streamer, hanging in 
mid air.  "What the HELL?"
	
	Michael gathered as much speed as he could, raising his sword.  
Sure enough, their spell shields went up, forming little chain-linked 
balls of woven light around the three.  They had no swords, but SkitZ 
knew that didn't mean an easy fight.  
	"SKITZ!  NOIZE!" he yelled sweeping his sword out in a wide arch 
as he sped up more, his wings leaving a blur of feather and color 
behind him.  
	An almost visible sonic boom, aided by the speed of his approach, 
left the tip of his blade, and shattered through the three bubbles.  
Somehow, though, he knew it wasn't going to be that easy.  While the 
one in the middle felt the hit and stopped dead in it's tracks, 
clutching it's masked head...the other two no longer existed.  They 
faded away.  An illusion.  
	A loud, screaming roar came from overhead, and one of the 
Nephilim appeared out of the clouds.  It raised it's hands, and a wall 
of four-meter-thick ice slid up in Michael's path from the ocean water.  
	Michael smashed through the thick ice head-first, but was 
determined not to let a simple thing like that stop him.  He shook it 
off like he got hit with a tennis ball, and shot upwards to the 
surprised mage.  
	He should have remembered about the third, who, jumping out of 
nowhere, flung itself onto Michael's back, wailing away with bony fists 
at his shoulders and clawing at the feathers on his back.  
	Michael wasn't about to let something like that set him back, 
though.  With a flutter, his wings reverted back into his coat for 
protection.  While the Nephilim flailed, trying to grab onto the 
sleeker leather, SkitZ grabbed his attacker's head, then somersaulted 
in mid air with the momentum he had left.  The faux angel went flying 
forward and up, smashing into the other attacker's chest before it 
could conjure up a protection spell.
	SkitZ fell away, letting the two collide, and regained flight as 
his wings spread again.  He landed softly on the ice wall that had been 
raised, and perched, taking out his sword once more.  

	Maury watched the fight with rapt fascination.  The Archangel 
fought like it was the most natural thing in the world.  Like breathing 
or blinking.  
	He was so amazed at the fight that he nearly collided with the 
ice wall.  "Holy SHIT!" He grabbed one of the sticks that rested in the 
tiny holder on the raft's back end and put it on top of the Theban that 
was written on it.  
	The only thing was, between the shock that his power was not 
working the same, and the excitement of the fight, Maury didn't 
remember to put the stick in the right place, and the tiny raft began 
to make a very slow right turn instead of stopping.  Maury frowned to 
himself.  "I hate this place." He mumbled.
	
	The three Nephilim had regrouped, choosing to lick their wounds 
later.  They hovered at Michael's level, watching him as he perched 
casually.  "Any time, ladies." He said with a smile.  Each of them took 
out a small stick from the robes of their coats.  Michael's eyes went 
wide.  "Oh fuck."
	Though they had on blue cloth masks, he could have sworn they 
were smiling underneath.  They began to draw in mid air with their 
little wands.  Each traced a small line of gold sparkling light, 
forming a kind of continuous Theban picture.  
	Right away, SkitZ recognized the spell.  "MAURY!  GET DOWN!!!" 
SkitZ yelled back.  He then began to trace his own sword through the 
air, forming a counter-spell.
	
	Maury blinked, ducked, and pulled his coat over his head, 
ignoring that it was on fire still.  "I really hate this place."

	The script dropped into the ocean from both the Nephilim and 
SkitZ.  It blossomed upwards from the water, twisting around into tiny 
threads of ocean and light.  This spun yarn began to reach upwards into 
the sky like a hundred snakes, then stopped growing.  Each began to 
spin around their centers, hovering a few meters above the ocean.
	From SkitZ's spell, a thin pole began to rise out of the water, 
made of the same blended light/liquid.  He held his attention on the 
pole.  One stray thought could cause the spell to collapse into 
uselessness.  Unlike most Theban, this was a very difficult spell and 
counter.  It needed constant support from the caster to work.  It was 
three minds against one.  
	
	Maury ducked under one of the giant spinning yarns, feeling the 
air cut above him like a knife.  

	With a raise of his sword, Michael forced the giant staff of 
woven ocean forward and into the oncoming spinning twine.  A terrible 
sound filled the air as each of them collided with the other, and began 
to wrap up into a giant mess. 
	Michael breathed a sigh of relief that the spell had worked, but 
his good fortune was short-lived, as he realized the massive spinning 
ball of magic was continuing on and about to hit.  At the last second, 
he flew off the ice barrier.  The magic caused the wall to explode into 
a million ice chunks, effectively leveling it into snow-cone mix.  
	As the crystals fluttered through the air, Michael found himself 
surrounded by the mages, each of them pointing their glowing wands at 
him.  His hackles raised again, and his wings wrapped around himself 
for protection.  "You better not miss." He growled.  
	They didn't.  Each of them drew a quick symbol before SkitZ could 
dive or climb, trapping him in a ragged cage of yellow light.  

	Below, Maury watched the display with anger.  A sol star would be 
nearly useless at this range.  An elephant would be able to dodge them.  
His coat still flared uselessly behind him, and by the way Michael was 
fighting, it would seem that unless Maury grew some wings rather 
quickly, he was a sitting duck.  
	"At least I'm not a sitting Penguin." He mumbled to himself.
	That was about when he realized he was about to complete a 
circle.  The tiny raft came across the trail of liquid fire Maury had 
been leaving behind him for minutes now.  "Mmm.  This is going to 
suck..." he dove inside the circle just before he hit his own magic.
	However, the trail from his coat connected and the fire began to 
change color.  Plasma ignited and turned a bright white, pulsing with a 
green glow.  Slowly, the entire circle was transformed, then began to 
expand it's energy.  
	
	Maury lifted his head up from the water just in time to watch the 
entire sky lit up and burn.  "W..." was all he could manage of 'wow'.  

	The green white flame washed over the three Nephilim and their 
captive.  They never even had time to scream.  SkitZ watched in 
amazement as three skeletal corpses dropped from the sky, their magic 
sticks charred to cinder.  Each still wore the same arrogant smile 
under their melted cloth masks as they splashed into the waves below.  
	A quick flicker, and the cage protecting Michael from the blast 
was faded from existence.  

	Maury looked up at Michael with a surprised look on his face.  "I 
take it all back..." he laughed.  "This place fucking ROCKS!"
	Michael descended down and pulled Maury from the ocean.  "I've 
never seen that before." He admitted.  "I didn't think a Green Firering 
was possible."
	"When has the impossible stopped us?" Maury said as they soared 
over the waves toward the city of Vohal.






















                             Chapter 10








	Flash.  

	Both light and sound filled his mind's eye.  

	Too fast to know what the image was.

	Flash!  Again.  Faster.  Closer to the picture.  

	FLASH!

	


	Strike Fiss stood on an endless field.  Bright green grass stood 
to his stomach as white cloth whipped around him in the wind.  Even so, 
he felt no wind except through his hair.  
	The image and sound and feeling rushed around him like a tornado, 
the exploded out and another flash hit him.  

	Azrael stood across from him.  Well, it wasn't Azrael.  It was 
Chris.  The little man who Fiss used to be.  All grown up to his own 
designs.  
	All grown up and turning into Azrael.  It made Strike Fiss sick.  
Not with hate, just with how close he really was to the monster he only 
knew through his own heart and soul. 
	It was disturbing.  Horribly disturbing.  

	They stood, facing each other like statues.  The wind blew the 
long, green grass all around them in shimmering waves.  No words.

	Azrael took out his bokken.  With a face made of stone and eyes 
of perfect hazy crystal, he moved the wooden blade to his front, 
pointing it toward Fiss.

	For the first time, Strike Fiss drew his own blade.  He held it 
down, at his side.  

	"Soon." He found himself saying.

	"Lovely dream."





	Chris' eyes opened suddenly to find a pair of black, deep eyes 
looking back through to his soul.
	Lucifer perched over him, only inches away from his face.  A tiny 
smile on his lips.  "I'm glad to see your dreams have straightened 
out."
	Chris didn't move.  "And why should I be flattered that you're 
looking into my dreams all the time?"
	"Most are." Lucifer chuckled, sitting back up slightly to give 
the younger man some breathing room.  "Unlike the other angels, I don't 
have time to fancy over every mortal under the heavens.  I am a busy 
little devil.  I think you should be honored I'd take time from my 
cluttered life to watch your dreams with such fascination."
	"Fine.  Thanks." Chris raised his hand and wiped away the sleep 
from his eyes.  "So, what have you determined from my spooky brain's 
sleeping habits?"
	"That the Pool of Angels saved your ass, and you should be very 
grateful that it took a liking to your soul." Lucifer whispered 
quietly.  His voice turned into venom.  "If you DARE fuck up the gift 
it has given you, I will make sure you don't live long enough to regret 
it."
	"I still have the Bert and Ernie rug I got for my third 
birthday." Chris smiled, sitting up in his sleeping bag.  "I'm not 
about to throw away anything from a mystical hole in the ground."
	Lucifer blinked.  "Bert and Ernie?"
	"You'd have to be Canadian.  It's a long story." Chris sighed, 
rubbing his hand over his face.  "Ugh.  I need to shave."
	"You look great." Lucifer coaxed.  "None of the angels ever let 
much of a beard grow until their old and wrinkled.  It's a shame 
really." He ran his hand over his own beard. 
	"Probably because of your beard." Chris smiled.  "They just don't 
want to look like the Fallen Angel they're so scared of."
	"I never thought of that." Lucifer pondered, crawling out of the 
tent to let Chris get changed.  
	"Creepy." Chris shivered.  Sure, Lucifer wasn't a big, flaming 
dragon who chuckled to himself as he ripped apart people's flesh and 
spouted evil onto the earth above.  However, there was still something 
very unsettling about being next to a Fallen.  Maybe it was just some 
built in aversion he had now that he had taken a swim in the Pool.  
	He sighed, promising himself to keep an open mind about such 
things.  If one expected devils, one saw devils.  If one loved life too 
much, though, angels could be just as fearful as devils. 
	
	That thought was running through his mind when he tried to put on 
a fresh shirt, and it wouldn't fit.  

	He tried to pull it together on his front, but the buttons 
wouldn't reach the holes.  He frowned, taking off his shirt again.  It 
was his...not mixed up with Rei's or Miharu's or something.  The white 
tuxedo shirt was his.  
	But it was rather tight.  He could feel it against his back, but 
it wasn't reaching around far enough.  Come to think of it, it didn't 
feel like a shirt against his back.  It was too smooth.  





	Yamato and Lucifer were sharing breakfast outside, next to the 
fire.  
	"Going to be a hot day." Yamato commented.
	"Yup." Lucifer agreed.  "Might rain later."
	"Yup."

	"AAAHHHHH!!!!!!!"  They were interrupted by Chris running past 
them, yelling at the top of his lungs, clothed only in his boxer shorts 
and socks.  White feathers trailed him.  He disappeared into the 
bushes.

	"He finally looked behind himself." Yamato smiled.
	"Took him long enough." Lucifer smiled.  "We better go after 
him."
	"No, let him do this on his own." Yamato said, taking a sip of 
tea.  "It's all for the best."
	Lucifer grinned.  "Yup.  Going to be a hot day."

	



	"OhmygodohmygodholyfuckingSHIT!" Chris yelled as he ran through 
the bushes, not even sure where he was going.  "No matter how hard he 
ran, though, he could feel the feathers on his back chasing after just 
as fast.  Even faster.  Pushing him forward.  
	That's when he realized he wasn't even running anymore.  He held 
his breath.  In one impossible, indescribable moment...

	He took flight.

	Right into a tree.

	As he fell down, clutching his forehead, he had the stupidest 
grin on his lips.  

	"I..." he looked behind himself again.  "I can fly..." 

	Two, silvery-white eagle wings clung to his shoulders.  He didn't 
even make the conscious thought, and they flapped once.  He laughed 
then flapped them again.  This time, hard enough that they forced him 
to his feet.  
	"Ohhhhhh..." he whispered to himself.  "This is going to be 
SOOOOOOOOO cool..."






	Yamato and Lucifer turned to the woods as they heard trees 
snapping out of the way, and in one burst of color, a young man wearing 
Jolt boxer shorts and angel wings shot up and out of the canopy, 
laughing out loud.  
	"More coffee?" Yamato offered.
	"Ooh, please." Lucifer held out his mug.  






















                               Chapter 11







	"FASTER!" Chris laughed, shooting straight up, vertical as he 
could manage.  
	Michael had been right.  It was like in Nacho.  It was the same 
kind of magic.  Driving as fast as he wanted, though, with unlimited 
road and the most amazing view.  The feeling of air against his skin 
and in his hair and...feathers?  Feathers.  It was pure speed and 
freedom mixed together to form flying.  If such a feeling could be 
bottled and categorized, this was the pure, unmixed, uncut, 99.9944 
percent real thing.  Straight up, and with a twist of lemon.
	He stopped his climb, then, with a small grin, pointed himself 
down through the clouds once more.  "I think I could get used to 
this..." he said to himself as his wings folded against his back and 
let him fall.  His eyes watered as he knifed through the air, then 
swooped over the treetops, skimming branches as he went.  
	Everything was a wonderful, amazing blur.  Adrenaline seemed to 
replace the blood in his veins as he swooped around the valley ridge, 
round a gentle hilly area, then back towards the camp at breakneck 
speeds he wouldn't have dreamt at thinking of in any standard way.  
This was more than speed.

	It was flying.

	The more he did it, the better he got.  Only minutes into his 
flight, he ducked back into the trees.  Zigging and zagging, he 
thundered around the thick trunks and lashing branches without losing 
more than a tiny morsel of his momentum.  
	He felt almost liquid, flying through the forest.  It was 
amazing.  Instinct took over thought, and imagination alone let him 
decide where to go.  He wanted to go there?  No problem, his wings 
replied, and in no time, he was there.  Where Michael's had been built 
for power and raw force, Chris found his wings were for speed and 
maneuvering.  
	Maybe he had died in the pool and this was heaven.  It certainly 
felt like heaven.  

	He bust through the canopy once more, climbing nearly straight up 
again with a couple of rapid flaps of his wings forcing him forward.  
The golden early morning light struck up against the bottoms of the 
clouds flat bellies as they formed.  Fiss turned upside down and flew 
under them, skimming the white vapor with his hand as he went.  
	Chris just closed his eyes and flew for a long time, not even 
caring where he was going, how fast or how high.  He would eventually 
have to come back down...but for a few unforgettable moments, he flew 
for the first time.

	Yup.

	Definitely in heaven. 







	Yamato and Lucifer watched Chris finally descend back to the 
camp, marked only by the smoke from their breakfast fire.  He hit the 
ground, a little too hard, but had a smile on his face wider than 
either of the two had ever seen.  "Did you SEE that?!!" Chris laughed, 
falling down on his butt, letting his wings fan out to rest.  "That was 
AWESOME!"
	"A little better than a Bert and Ernie rug, isn't it?" Lucifer 
smiled.
	"They look good." Yamato smiled, patting Chris on the left wing.  
"Now you know why I told you not to pick at them.  They work better if 
you let them set in."
	Chris blinked.  "Shit!" He stood.  "Wait a second...I mean...I 
don't want to sound ungrateful..."
	"Don't worry.  You can hide them." Yamato re-assured him.  
"They're very versatile.  Easy maintenance and come with a lifetime 
warranty."
	"Void if you Fall, though." Lucifer grumbled darkly.  
	"Well, if you'd stop dwelling on it..." Yamato retorted.  "Now, 
try and act nice.  It's a great day when a new Archangel is born."
	"Oooh, fancy!" Chris shrugged.  "Do I get a party?"
	"Maybe later." Lucifer nodded.  "The Knights had this tradition 
of a gathering of musicians, commoners, hundreds of naked women. You 
know.  The usual."
	"Oh, you mean like Woodstock." 
	"Yeah, kinda like that.  More naked women, though." Lucifer 
nodded happily.  
	"Hoo haw, the boy's alive." Chris replied.  "You horney little 
devil you."
	Lucifer rolled back his eyes. 
	"Anyway..." Yamato chuckled.  "Get dressed.  We should get this 
over with before noon."
	"What before noon?"
	"The crater." Yamato said, finishing his coffee.  "Don't pack.  
It's not far."
	"I'm ready now." Chris replied, reaching into his tent, pulling 
out his sword, pants and shoes.  Lucifer and Yamato watched in 
amazement at how Chris managed to get dressed in under thirty seconds.  
"I sleep in." he explained.  "Years of waking up just before I have to 
go somewhere makes you a fast dresser." He rubbed his hand through his 
hair to comb it, but it was already brushed back from his flight 
earlier.  
	Yamato regarded his grandson with a smile, then nodded.  "Very 
well.  No time like the present." He stood.  "Grab your book, though.  
You'll need it."

	Lucifer had opted to stay behind.  Chris couldn't help but feel a 
little sympathy towards the man.  Even when he was trying to shed his 
dark nature, he could never walk side by side with the others.  
	Yamato lead them into the bushes, void of any trail.  Only the 
sounds of the forest were with them as they walked.  A light breeze 
caused whispering leaves and pine needles to echo and cover their 
footsteps.  
	Chris was on auto-pilot, mostly.  His brain was still trying to 
grasp what had happened that morning.  He had gone to sleep, thinking 
nothing of the sort, then woke up with wings and the ability to touch 
the sky.  Until that moment, he had been skeptical of the Pool...in 
fact...the entire reality around them.  It seemed to be all a dream 
that badly echoed aspects of 'real' life back home. 
	But he had never experienced anything like that before.  There 
was no way his soul could have known how to do that unless this was all 
true.  A separate, living universe.  One that was turning out to be his 
home.   
	It was like being yanked from everything he knew to be true, then 
dunked into ice-cold reality.  It wasn't a bad feeling, though.  It was 
rather invigorating.  Every belief he held was melted down from 
certainty and reformed into an idea.  An idea was wonderful.  You could 
change it and mold it as such a thought should be...without needing to 
be conformed to a belief.  Questions filled his mind at every turn, but 
he welcomed each one.  Each was just as important as an answer, if not 
more.  Reality almost seemed to reshape itself, turning into a kind of 
playful goo that was screaming to be tossed around and fooled with.  
	"How are you doing?" Yamato asked suddenly as he noticed Chris 
looking oddly at a large leaf that had fallen at his feet.
	"Good..." he whispered, picking it up in his hand.  "Everything 
seems so different, though..." he crunched the dry green leaf in his 
hand, then let it flutter to the ground in pieces.  "Is that normal?"
	The older man smiled.  "I don't know.  I'm not an angel." He 
placed his hand on Chris' shoulder.  "If you start to get freaked out, 
just tell me, and we can take a break."
	"I'm okay.  Just..." he smiled, looking up at the trees around 
him.  "It's weird.  I never noticed how things...looked..." he closed 
his eyes.  "Everything's so bright now.  I keep thinking I'll wake up 
and this will all be a dream." He laughed.  "And I'd probably want to 
go back to sleep."
	"Ahh." Yamato nodded as they continued through the forest.  
"You're seeing things in a pure light again.  Most people forget how 
early on in their lives.  Anyone can do it, but the Pool kind of re-
enforces the joy of existence into you.  It's all part of the Word."
	"Kind of like when you've been up all night, then look outside to 
one of those awesome sunrises." Chris smiled.  "I loved those."
	"I agree." Yamato laughed.  "And you're right.  It's a lot like 
that.  From what Michael's told me, it's how sensory depravation is 
used back on Earth...except here...you're only being showed the true 
light of the universe, instead of the view through the crud that people 
let accumulate."
	"Does it wear off?" Chris asked, his face worried.  
	"Not from what I've been told." Yamato shook his head.  "But 
you'll get used to it, so you won't start giggling every time you see a 
leaf fall." He smiled.
	Chris smiled back.  "Sorry about that."
	"It's okay.  I'm glad, actually.  It means you've got a good hold 
on your wings.  Lucifer and the other Fallen don't see through those 
eyes." He sighed.  "Poor bastards.  And I mean that."
	They started moving down a light slope, and Chris could see that 
the trees were thinning enough to show a large, circular valley ahead.  
A crater.  Only about the size of a stadium, but a crater nonetheless.  
	Though Yamato seemed to be having problems climbing down, Chris 
nearly floated, and didn't even notice.  It was instinct taking over 
again.  He just thought where he wanted to go, and his body moved that 
way.  Now, it was aided by wings.  It wasn't long until the slope had 
reached it's maximum, and then began to level out again as the last 
remnant of the forest trees fell behind.  
	The morning sun hadn't gotten through to the forest floor, and 
Chris had to shield his eyes when they got to the valley's grassy 
bottom.  A few hours, and it would be mid-day already.  "So what are we 
looking for?" he asked as they walked into the plain-like grasses.  
	"That." Yamato pointed flatly.  


	At the very center of the crater was what looked like a tiny hole 
in the ground.  Barely big enough for a person to slide through.  
	"Stop." Yamato said quickly.  "Don't get any closer."
	"Why?" Chris asked, trying to peer down the hole.  "I can't see 
what it is."
	The grass around it had been torn up by some unknown force, and a 
patch of rock and soil surrounded it.  It was strange that such a hole 
in the ground wouldn't be full of water and turned into a pond by now.  
	"If you get any closer," Yamato smiled "well, you'll see." He 
took Chris' book from his arms and opened it to the final golden-etched 
page.  "Go into the script, and use the vision to walk toward it.  
You'll get all your answers then."
	Careful not to touch the page yet, Chris slid his arm around the 
book and knelt down into a sitting position.  "You want to give me any 
hints before I go?"
	Yamato nodded.  "Sure." He grinned.  "Say hello to the old house 
for me."
	With a long breath, Chris nodded, and pressed the first two 
fingers of his right hand onto the page.


	

















                             Chapter 12










	The roof over Azrael's head cracked, and he woke with a start.  
The little boy, no older than Miharu must have been in earth years, 
looked up at the ceiling with terror in his eyes.  Only a distant lamp 
in the vast room showed any sign of light.
	Must get out.  Danger.  Danger coming.
	Bone Man was coming.  Coming for him next.  The mages had all 
said it was a trick from the others, but this was no trick.  Something 
was attacking the City.  
	With a certainty alien to most children his age, the little 
archangel jumped out of bed and started to get dressed.  There was no 
time to cry or huddle in the corner.  His Knighthood was at stake, from 
what the others had told.  Bone Man was after his weapon.
	To Azrael, that was the one thing he would never allow.
	After getting dressed in his wilderness cloak and packing a small 
bag, he ran back to his bed, lifting something out of the sheets.  

	An axe.

	A large, wicked war axe that was easily as tall as the little 
angel was.  The tip of the raw, deadly blade was polished, and shone an 
intense bright blue.  Almost as if it had an energy all to it's own.  

	Yamato bust through the door to the little boy's room.  He was 
about twenty now, but wore the same old eyes as he had always had.  "We 
leave.  NOW!" he told the boy.  He had already packed.  A thin sword 
was in his left hand.  His right hand seemed to be gashed open, and had 
a makeshift bandage on top.  
	"What's going on?" little Azrael demanded as they ran out the 
door and through the marble halls.  Already, signs of attack were 
apparent, even deep within the structure.  Cracks and faults slowed 
their travel.  Holes that fell hundreds of meters to the City Court had 
to be jumped and dodged with no room for error.  While Azrael could 
fly, Yamato could not.  Not only that, the little Knight wouldn't be 
able to hold his massive axe in flight, and would have to drop it to 
save his own life...something that he wasn't prepared to do.  
	"Bone Man is here.' Yamato nodded.  "He already got past the 
Cherubs.  We're not sure how." He swallowed hard.  "I think he actually 
dug up through the ground."
	If little Azrael had been shocked, he hid it well.  "We must 
hurry." He nodded, running as fast as he could behind the older man.  
His tiny white cape...his wings in their other form...pushed him along 
enough to keep up.  
	No time to worry about the City.  Had to save his axe. Had to 
save himself.  The rest of it could all go to Lucifer, wrapped in a 
tidy little bow.  

	He wasn't about to lose the power he had just discovered he had.

	"We are going to the Cave of Thrones." He stated flatly as they 
ran.  
	Yamato skidded to a stop, looking at the young man as if another 
head had suddenly popped up on his shoulders.  "WHAT?" he shook his 
head.  "No we're NOT, Azrael!  That's not going to help now." He 
continued running, forcing the little Knight to keep up with him.  "If 
anything, it would only aide in the destruction of the world."
	"I DON'T CARE!" the little angel demanded.  "I want Bone Man 
destroyed!  He will NOT get my axe!" he huffed after Yamato.
	"I swear he will NOT get your axe...but you MUST follow me." 
Yamato demanded back.
	This was a slightly alien situation to Azrael, who usually only 
heard support and kindness from the older man.  Yamato was, probably 
for the first time he could remember, quite panicked.  Bone Man must 
have been close, then.  Azrael put the last shred of dwindling trust he 
had in his head towards his teacher.  If the old man had a plan, then 
he would follow.  
	What else could he do?

	They ran up the manual access ramp to the observation dome above.  
Though Yamato had a harder time without wings, he easily was keeping 
stride with the little Knight of Fiss.  He wasn't about to let a little 
something like gravity worry him right now.  Yamato had taken out a 
small block of metal from his duster pockets.  He hadn't bothered to 
take a backpack with him, unlike Azrael, and that bothered the little 
angel to no end.
	Yamato seemed to be always prepared.  But now?  What was this 
plan to escape Bone Man if the old teacher hadn't bothered to pack?
	Still, at least he had his Casting Block.  It was rumored to be 
the only one in existence.  Made from a metal so rare that no sword 
could be forged from it.  There simply wasn't enough of it left.  
	However, Yamato had managed to gather enough of it in his worldly 
travels to forge his little trinket. Though it was only the side of his 
fist, it held what Yamato had explained as an active Word connection.  
While the Knights' swords had been forged to capture the power of the 
universe and contain it...this little block of gray metal was still 
connected with the endless powers around them.  When used to draw 
Theban, it could be transformed into Reality itself.  A tool so 
dangerous that Yamato had only taken it out of his pocket once before 
to show Azrael.  
	They reached the perfectly smooth dome-wall, and Yamato pressed 
the Casting Block into the opaque crystal, whispering something in a 
foreign tongue as he did.  
	"I want you to hold your breath and close your eyes." He turned 
to Fiss.  The Casting Block was glowing...no...actually, it seemed to 
be sucking the color and light from the air around them.  
	"But...?"
	"NOW!" Yamato yelled, causing the little angel to jump.  "If you 
don't you'll die.  Now PLEASE!"
	Faced with such a direct ultimatum, Fiss obeyed.  A hot wind 
slammed into him from all sides, knocking him off his feet and nearly 
twisting him apart.  Gravity seemed to shift slightly, and he could see 
a bright white light even though his eyelids.
	The next thing he knew, Yamato had picked him up, and they were 
running through the forest.  The forest???  Azrael looked around, but 
for the life of him, he couldn't see the City.  "Where are we?" he 
asked weakly, still disorientated from whatever the Casting Block had 
done to move them so quickly.  
	"Past the Trinity desert." Yamato said quickly.  "Bone Man will 
take a while before he can notice us gone."
	"The TRINITY??" the little angel gasped.  That was almost two 
months travel by foot from the City of Fiss.  He hadn't been this far 
West since his trip to the Pool three years ago.
	"Yes." Yamato smiled one of his usual warm smiles, allowing 
himself to be slightly less nervous now that they had some time.  The 
smile faded as a stray thought entered his mind.  "Now...I must ask you 
something very important."
	Azrael nodded slowly, not certain what to expect.  
	"We must escape here." Yamato sighed.  "This world is going to 
die very soon.  I didn't think it would be possible, but Bone Man seems 
to have found a way."
	"I'm not afraid to go to Heaven." Azrael said defiantly.  "So 
long as I keep my axe."
	Yamato regarded the little man with a sigh.  "I mean everything, 
Azrael.  Even Heaven and Hell.  Not just the ground we walk on and the 
air we breathe.  I think Bone Man hates us so much, he wants to destroy 
everything."
	Azrael listened quietly.  
	"There are other worlds, though." Yamato said slowly.  "Some like 
ours.  Some very different.  They are outside what you see...and even 
what you can't see.  They are separate from our own sky and earth.  
They may even have their own Heavens and Hells.  If we were to travel 
to one of those places, we would be safe." He closed his eyes.  "But by 
the time we arrive, our home may be gone.  We can never return.
	"This is not an easy thing to decide upon." He continued after a 
pause.  "If we stay, we will die.  But we die with honor and with the 
world we love.  If we leave?  Then we may live.  Even if it's just for 
a while.  We will die in another home, alone from anyone we knew here."
	"How is this all possible?" Azrael said weakly.  "Why didn't you 
tell me this before??"
	"You did not have the right to know." Yamato said flatly.  "By 
doing this, we are invading someone else's home.  I knew I could only 
do that if there was no other choice." He knelt down and grabbed 
Azrael's shoulders.  "Today is time for that choice.  There are no 
others.  YOU must make that choice, for without you, I have no reason 
to either leave or stay.  I will accept either.  I consider it an honor 
to die beside my own grandson."
	Fiss was speechless.  A large part of his mind regretted waking 
up so early.  If he just stayed in bed, he would be dead by now, and 
not have to make such a choice.  Nor would he have seen how scared his 
grandfather was.  How finite and final his words were.
	"You..." he finally squeaked  "you can save us?  What about the 
others?"
	"There is no time." Yamato clenched his eyes.  "Bone Man was a 
myth until we saw him attacking our guards.  If what our messengers 
have told us is true, all but the House of SkitZ have been destroyed."
	"Michael!" Fiss gasped.  "Please!  We must save him too!"
	"There is NO time!  I cannot take more than two people across the 
barriers, and neither you or Michael will survive the trip without me!" 
he yelled.  "I would take him if I had ANY choice in the matter, but 
you are my first priority." Yamato rubbed his eyes with the palm of his 
hand.  "I have thought about this for a long time now.  As a final 
plan.  The wisest mages of all have helped me discover these secrets, 
but even they would be unable to join us."
	
	Azrael looked at his grandfather and mentor.  He stared for a 
long time.  He had to make a decision.  He had to make the right one.  

	"Then..." he said weakly.  "We must leave."
	Yamato nodded, neither showing relief or worry at the little 
Knight's reply.  "Stand back." He took out his Casting Block again.
	"Will..." Azrael interrupted "Will there be people in this other 
world?  I don't want to be alone."
	"There are." Yamato smiled.  "Probably a lot more than here." He 
stood, giving his grandson a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.
	Azrael nodded and watched as Yamato walked through the trees for 
a ways, then found a small clearing of grass.  He bent over and began 
tracing a circle in the ground, just big enough for the two to stand 
in.  
	"What happens this day..." Yamato whispered to himself "...is 
never to be repeated.  Not here.  Not in any reality.  Not in any 
time." He closed his eyes tight.  "Promise me something, Azrael."
	"What?" the little angel asked, shaking.  
	He looked up from the little metal block in his hands, then over 
to the Fiss Axe.  "Never use power like this.  Never call on things 
like this unless the alternative is even worse."
	Azrael could only nod.
	"Come here." Yamato reached out with his hand.  "Stand in the 
circle and get ready."
	"F...for what?" the little Knight of Fiss asked as he grabbed his 
grandfather's hand.
	The older man gave a weak smile.  "I don't know." He ruffled his 
hair.  "Just get ready."
	
	He wrapped his tough, forge-weary hands around the little block.  
An odd wind seemed to lift the grass and dust around them.  Time slowed 
down...slowing...

	Slowing...

	Slowing...

	The Casting Block dropped from his hands.  Gravity hardly touched 
it.  It was like the metal had been replaced by a feather.  

	Slowly...VERY slowly...

	It dropped.  

	They both watched it with rapt fascination.  

	The engraved circle around them began to rise up off the ground 
somehow, making a strange double-shadow as it crimped the air.  It was 
almost like the rest of the universe was jumping up around them, but 
they weren't sinking into a hole. 

	They were sinking out of the universe.  

	








	Very dark.  

	Very dark eyes opened, gazing into the strange, black hole.  "Let 
me look..."
	Yamato's eyes opened, startled.  "You're back?"
	Strike Fiss nodded.  "I want to see it."
	
	Not waiting for Yamato's consent, Fiss stood, dropping the Theban 
book from his lap.  The last, empty page was turned open.  He edged 
towards the patch of dirt and black light.  Slowly.  His wings folded 
around his body, huddled for protection.  
	"Chris..." 
	"I want to see..." he repeated, kneeling down as he felt a tiny 
pull towards it...like a vacuum.

	As he peered over the edge, his eyes reflected something.

	Something amazing.

	Something that had never been seen by the Earth.  Something that 
could never be captured by a Voyager space probe, or by the largest 
telescopes.  

	The spectacular colors of orange to gray and red and bluish 
whispers hardly ever seen by the eyes of mortals.  A plain of crystal 
blue stones that hugged the orb as far as he could see.  

	The planet of Saturn hovered silently in the middle of a sea of 
stars.  Bright, tiny moons slid around it.  Enceladus, the brightest, 
was experiencing a sunrise past it's planet's bulk.  
	"My god..." Chris whispered.  "It's so beautiful..."
	A tear dropped from his face, falling into the hole.  It froze 
instantly in the blackness of space, falling endlessly towards their 
home planet.  
	Slowly, with the brightness returned to his eyes, he smiled at 
Yamato.  "Is this really...?"
	He nodded.  "Saturn.  In the year Three Thousand A.D. in the 
Universe of Senshi, Anime, Jolt Cola, and...unfortunately...the Spice 
Girls."
	"No universe is perfect." Chris mused with a smile.  
	"Do you remember?" Yamato asked slowly.  "Do you remember what 
happened next?"
	"Only that..." Chris paused for a beat.  "...I...don't remember 
how I lost my wings."
	Yamato nodded.  "Lets get back to camp." He stood, looking at the 
setting sun.  He had a sad look on his face.  "We must go now."

	Chris said nothing.  Slowly, he stood to his full height, 
kneeling again only to pick up his sword.  "You knew."
	Yamato looked up.  "Pardon?"
	He smiled sadly.  "You knew I was going to Fall.  You knew what I 
was turning into."
	A long...long pause.

	"Yes." He admitted.

	"But, you still risked universes to save me." Fiss whispered. 
	Yamato smiled, eyes closed.  "I did."
	The younger man walked over, then gave his grandfather a warm 
hug.  "You did."
















                             Chapter 13









	Andrea's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she walked on 
the clean marble floor.  The only sound she made were the tiny, soft 
swishing sounds of her socks as she walked.  
	She felt hungry, but her stomach told her it probably wouldn't be 
a good idea right now.  The bathroom was empty, so she entered, 
touching a small raised piece of wood next to the door.  Slowly, a 
warm, golden light lit up the room, acting as if she had hit a light 
switch.  
	After doing her business, she washed up, and was about to go back 
to bed when she heard someone snoring.  Odd, she thought.  Nobody 
snores in the group.  
	Following the sound, she poked her head through the door to the 
Study.  A miniature library that had been erected up around Dave 
Reinquest as he requested the information.  She almost laughed.  

	The smartest person in the world was drooling in his sleep.  
Snoring too.  The side of his head was impacted on the desk, buried in 
a book almost as large as the table itself.  It looked very 
comfortable, actually.  
	
	She walked over and nudged him.  "Dave?"
	"Huh?" he muttered, smacking his lips.  His eyes fluttered open a 
second later, and he sat up abruptly.  "Oh, Andrea...I didn't hear you 
come in!"
	"That's because you were snoring." She smiled.  
	Dave's eyes went wide.  "I snore??" he paused to consider it.  
"Are you sure??" he looked around at the book, quickly wiping the drool 
off of it with his shirt-sleeve.  "I wasn't even going to sleep...I 
must have lost it..."
	"Dave." Andrea sighed, sitting down across from him on the other 
side of the table.  "You've been awake for weeks at a time.  I know you 
don't need to sleep as much, but you shouldn't overdo it."
	Slowly, he yawned.  "Yeah, you're rihhhhhht." He smoothed out the 
fin in his hair that had been caused by sleeping on the desk.  "Well, 
I'm okay now." He smiled.  "An hour or two usually can last me a 
month."
	Hooze laughed.  "You're worse than Chris."
	"Not by much." He smiled.

	Both their faced went blank.

	"Sorry..." Dave said quickly.
	"No...It's okay." Hooze replied just as quickly.  "I'm used to 
it." She looked down at her feet.  "About as much as I'm going to be."
	Dave suddenly had a concerned look on his face.  "Are you feeling 
okay?"
	"Not bad." Hooze sighed, shaking off memories she'd rather avoid 
at the moment.  "Just a little queasy lately."
	Dave nodded, reaching into his pockets and PenguinSpace.  He 
produced a small packet of powder.  "Eat this." He threw it over to 
her.
	She caught it, giving him a strange look.
	"Trust me." Dave smiled.  "I can see things like chemical 
deficiencies without a computer.  You're just a little chemically 
unbalanced at the moment."
	Andrea shrugged, tore open the pouch, and poured the contents 
into her mouth.  "Mm.  Tastes good." She said, swallowing the dry 
powder.  "Needs ketchup, though." She crumpled up the little packet and 
placed it onto the desk.  "So whatcha up to now?" she offered, pointing 
at the books.  
	Dave turned his attentions to the books for a moment.  "History.  
Every history book I have access too, I've been reading." He laughed.  
"Not a very easy task.  It seems that everyone in this universe since 
the dawn of time has aspired to be an author.  Few make any sense, 
though.  It might be language evolution."
	"Like how English in England is different than English in the 
U.S.?"
	"Exactly." He nodded.  "Except that it's multiplied about two 
times as bad for every hundred years.  Not that Theban and Alael are 
easy scripts to decipher hidden meanings in the first place."
	"Mmm, sounds boring." She laughed.  "Glad you're doing it and not 
me."
	Dave returned the smile.  "Most of it reads like the Dead Sea 
Scrolls, anyway." He sighed.  "And I thought OUR world was ruled by 
religious practices.  The people here have been growing up without even 
having to question their faith, though.  It's the most amazing thing.  
Like a perfect religious system."
	"When you can walk beside an angel, I doubt you have much need to 
question your faith." Hooze replied.
	He nodded, turning a few pages on the biggest book in front of 
him.  "Still nothing about how Chris got back after being killed by 
Tumbler, I'm afraid, though." He sighed.  "I've been looking for even 
the most remote, veiled, hidden meanings.  Metaphors of every kind.  So 
far, the search is not going well."
	"You'll find it." Hooze sighed, reaching over and patting his 
shoulder.  "Then we can get the hell out of here, and you can let Mina 
find out you snore." She chuckled.
	Dave's eyes brightened slightly.  "I'd be lying if I said I'm not 
looking forward to going back." He paused.  "Oh, by the way, how are 
you feeling now?"
	Andrea nodded.  "Great, actually." She gave herself the mental 
once-over.  "Stomach feels better too.  I might get something to eat."
	He had a strange look in his eyes.  "Andrea...this is a rather 
odd position for me to be in...I'm not sure how to go about this."
	She blinked.  "Pardon?"
	Dave looked down at the discarded pouch of vitamins that he had 
given her.  "Can you read the label on that?"
	"Uh...sure..." Hooze frowned slightly, not sure what Dave was 
getting at.  She reached over and picked up the tiny plastic pouch, un-
crumpling it with her fingers and smoothing it out on the desk first.

	There was a small phrase on the side, printed in dark-gray 
letters.  She read it.

	Her eyes went wide.

	Dave shrugged...half in apology, half in support.  "Like I 
said...it's a little weird."
	Andrea dropped the little package.  "You...are...are you sure?" 
she stammered.  She blinked.  "Your Dave Reinquest...of course you're 
sure." She muttered to herself.  
	He nodded back.  "Go get something to eat.  Get some sleep." He 
said calmly.  "I won't tell anyone.  It's all up to you when and how 
you do this." He paused.  "If you want to do this."
	"I..." Hooze stammered.  "I think I just lost my appetite..." she 
whispered to herself, looking at him with wide eyes.  "I'm...I...I 
better go get some sleep..." she turned, walking off in a daze.

	Dave allowed himself a small smile.  Well, at least she took the 
news well.  

	He reached over and picked up the tiny little piece of plastic 
with the words: "Maternal Nutritional Supplement : First Trimester" on 
the side, and carefully destroyed it with a flash of light from his 
hand.  


	








	They had been waiting for almost ten hours now. 

	Maury was NOT impressed.  He kept pacing back and forth in the 
tiny, dusty little cell.  Every five minutes, he'd look at his watch 
(useless because of the longer day) for something to do and to keep 
reminding himself how much he hated waiting.  
	"Why don't I just blast down the door with one of them Fire-
things you told me about, and we can get the hell out of here!?!" he 
sighed at last.  
	Michael looked up at him through his coat.  The angel had been 
meditating silently in the corner for the entire duration of their 
stay.  "Because if you do, a thousand angry cherubs are going to be on 
the other side to remind you how impolite it is to try and escape their 
holding cell."
	"Humph." Maury growled.  "I could take em.  The little buggers 
can't be THAT dangerous."
	When they had finally arrived at the Vohal City, they were 
greeted by nearly every cherub under Gabriel's command.  Michael had 
been worried for a moment, as each cherub itself could put up a damn 
good fight.  However, they had been there to meet with the two 
visitors, and assured them that their intent was honorable. 
	Gabriel had been expecting them, and would see them shortly.

	Then again, as Maury was finding out, "shortly" was a very 
relative term for an angel.  Planets crumbled in a "short" time 
compared to some stars.  Ice ages were very "short" on the celestial 
time-line.  
	For all he knew, they would be waiting in the tiny little holding 
cell until Hell froze over.  
	"If I'm stuck in here for more than a day, I swear the bitch is 
going to regret it." Maury stated finally.
	"You gotta relax, fella!" Michael smiled, talking in a high-
pitched voice.  "Take a rest!  Put your feet up!" he sighed.  "The more 
you bitch and complain, the longer she's going to keep us in here.  As 
soon as you figure that out and start acting in a boring manor, she'll 
tire of this little game and we can get down to business."
	Maury gave him a long, dry look.  "Fine." He slumped down on the 
floor in the corner, taking off his coat and rolling it up as a pillow 
to sit on.  "Boring enough?"
	"Very boring." Michael nodded happily.  "Now, just vedge-out for 
a while."
	Despite Maury's frustrations, he admitted to himself that vedging 
was probably going to get him just as far as ranting and raving, so it 
was at least worth a shot.  
	
	It wasn't even a moment into the silence when the door opened, 
and a hooded figure stood on the other side, chuckling.  "Michael, you 
always spoil my fun." She said in a cracking, barbed voice.  "I was 
having fun watching the young man bitch."
	"Bitch, eh?" Maury mumbled under his breath.  "Fuck you."
	Maury and Michael stood, gathering their things.  "Nice to see 
you again, Gabriel." He smiled, bowing slightly.  
	She waved his greeting off and turned, walking away.  The door 
was still open, so the two took it as an invitation to follow.  They 
caught up to her down the long and twisted stone hallway.  "Why are you 
here?" she asked as they walked.
	"To talk." Michael replied.
	Gabriel nodded to herself.  "You have my attention so long as it 
takes for us to walk to the exit." She said.  "Depending on how 
interesting your words are, I may decide to take the long or short 
way."
	They started up a flight of stairs, heading into the maze-like 
courtyard.  Unlike the City of SkitZ, this place was not nearly as 
impressive.  It looked like an old bayou motel that had already gone to 
the crocodiles.  Though the construction was in the same pyramid 
design, it was much smaller, and seemed to be in need of major repairs.  
	The court was arranged into winding mazes of shrubs and 
buildings, but the plant-life was withering, and they could easily step 
through it to the maze's ends if they wanted to.  Luckily, Gabriel 
seemed to be in a good mood, and was taking her time as they walked.  
	"I've been busy." Michael started talking again.  "I'm sure Fiss 
has been more than happy to spread rumors of my journey."
	"I never listen to Fiss anymore." Gabriel replied.  
"But...yes...a few members of my House have expressed the desire to 
kill you before you cause the Noize again."
	Though few remembered it, the Noize had become a kind of fairy 
tale to frighten children with.  A bogeyman that was supported as truth 
by no less than three of the Knights, and many other mages and angels.  
The rumors of it coming back was enough to unsettle almost 
anyone...even if they had no idea what it truly was. 
	"I've been careful not to do that." Michael said with a strong 
defensive tone in his voice.  "In fact, I was going to bring back some 
help."
	She laughed.  The old witch laughed.  "Who could help?  I must 
say, you're not helping yourself by telling me more legends and myths 
that never turn out to be..."
	"I found the real Knight of Fiss." Michael interrupted her 
ranting.  
	Gabriel stopped dead in her tracks, letting her dirty gray robes 
flutter around her body.  "What do you mean...real?"
	"The Fiss I knew before the Noize was not this power-hungry 
asshole." Michael grumbled.  "When I started to draw prophecy, asking 
for guidance and answers to my questions, I started having dreams like 
before I was turned into an angel."
	Slowly, Gabriel turned around.  "Go on."
	Michael nodded.  "I realized that these dreams were not mine.  
That they were the dreams of Fiss." He smiled.  "But OUR Fiss has his 
wings.  So I began to do some research into the old texts that were 
kept.  Even the ones corrupted by Re-Genesis.  It turns out that Fiss 
managed to escape the Noize by leaving into another world."
	Her eyes went wide.  "You've...you've SEEN this other world?"
	"I walked down it's streets and annoyed it's law enforcement." 
Michael laughed proudly.  "Oooh, and they have this REALLY cool stuff 
called 'Glass' that's like hard air that you can smash through, and it 
makes this really cool sound when it breaks." He touched his sword.  
Instantly, the sound of breaking glass filled the air.
	Gabriel nearly fell over in amazement.  "Air does this?"
	"Sand." Michael smiled.  "But it's hard sand that you can see 
through."
	"Ahem." Maury coughed.  "Wonderful home-improvement tips, but 
would you care to continue with the saving the universe part?"
	SkitZ nodded, pointing to Maury.  "He is from the other world as 
well.  Including Fiss, I brought his most trusted friends to help us."
	Gabriel was already poking and prodding Maury, examining him with 
a curious eye.  "Amazing.  YOU did all this, Michael?"
	He smiled.
	Her eyes went wide and she turned all her attention to the angel 
again.  "And Fiss?  Is he really...him???"
	"Even better." Michael nodded.  "He was raised by some very nice 
people."
	"What do you need from me?" she bowed.

	Gabriel was bowing to Michael.  From what little Maury had seen, 
he was certain this was as rare as it got.

	"Tell me where Cass is?" Michael asked quietly.  "And support 
SkitZ when the time comes."
	Gabriel nodded slowly, rising to her full height...still much 
shorter than either of the young men, but proud nonetheless.  "You have 
my word and my seal." She kissed her first two fingers and made a 
little cross in the air in front of her.  
	"Also..." Michael said slowly.  "This will be a hard battle.  You 
may not be able to hold your city from the attack." He saw Gabriel's 
eyes darken, but she nodded, knowing it was true.  "IF that happens, 
bring your families and workers to SkitZ.  We will keep them safe as if 
they were our own."
	She nodded.  "I thank you.  If this is truly the second 
Revelations, it may come to that."

	They walked through the maze silently for a minute, finally 
reaching the exit, and a grand archway that led to the outside wall.  
"Cassiel is well hidden, and what is left of the bulk of her armies are 
going to be cautious about you coming." She said, motioning for two 
tiny dragon-like creatures to swing open the doors for them.  
	"We don't have much of a choice." Michael sighed.  "We need 
everyone we can gather together to fight."
	"Not to mention she's about eight hundred years younger than I 
am." Gabriel laughed.  It sounded much more lively than her decaying 
voice.  "You just want to see if she'll wear her skimpy armor again, 
don't you?"
	Michael smiled, mostly to himself.  "Just tell me where she is, 
Gabe."
	Gabriel produced a small piece of yellow paper, and traced her 
finger on it, forming only three characters.  More than enough for a 
location.  "You may find this interesting." She smiled.
	Michael read the script and nearly dropped it.  "Oh...this 
complicates matters." He said.  "A lot, actually."
	"Go, talk to her." Gabriel patted him on the left wing.  "You and 
your friend can make it easy.  And if she's been hiding for this long, 
I'm sure she has a spell that will help." She motioned to a messenger 
angel, and ordered it to fetch a new raft.  
	"Mike, is there a problem?" Maury asked, concerned at the look on 
his face.
	He nodded.  "Cassiel moved her city to somewhere 
rather...bold..."
	"Where?"
	He smiled.  "Under the ocean, three hundred meters away from the 
City of Fiss."

	Maury blinked.

	"Yup..." he sighed as they boarded the new raft.  "I really hate 
this place."






















                            Chapter 14












	As Yamato and Fiss arrived back at camp, something didn't seem 
right.  The fire had been unattended for a while now, and was ebbing 
out of existence as it was running out of timber to burn.  None of the 
tents had been touched.  Not even Lucifer's.  
	"I wonder where he is?" Yamato said quietly.  
	The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with a deathly 
serious fist at his neck.  Chris fell out of the way, landing hard, and 
not even seeing what hit him.

	As they both regained focus in their eyes, they saw it was 
Lucifer who was holding an equally serious wing-blade at Yamato's 
throat.  

	"What are you DOING!?!" Fiss yelled, drawing his sword as he 
scrambled to his feet.  
	"YOU LIED TO ME!" Lucifer nearly screamed.  "I gave you my trust 
for WHAT?  So I could be USED like all the people you FUCKING ANGELS 
USE?"
	"I DON'T KNOW!" Yamato yelled back.  "WHAT do you MEAN I lied to 
you!?!" his voice lessened as he was able to regain his breath.  "Tell 
me what I said, and I will tell you the truth!"
	Lucifer glanced over at Fiss, who was well within range of 
cutting the fallen Azer brother to pieces.  "You told me that HE 
escaped." He turned back to the older man.  "You never said ANYTHING 
about you being there to HELP!  About tearing down the barriers 
yourself!"
	"I didn't." Yamato gasped as Lucifer's hand squeezed him tighter.  
"I will explain if you let me!"
	"Don't do this." Strike Fiss said in a low voice.  "Not to him.  
You owe him just as much."  His katana wasn't there for diplomacy, 
however, and stayed steady in his grip.  One small cut and a 'Fiss' 
blast would rip the devil's arm off.  
	"It's okay, Fiss." Yamato gasped.  "He's mad because I didn't 
tell him the whole truth.  Just like you.  I have to tell you both." He 
looked up at Lucifer's dark, hazy eyes.  "I am not forcing you to stay.  
If you want to leave, then leave.  Just let me tell you why you should 
stay."

	Slowly, the black, sharpened feathers began to retract, back into 
Lucifer's coat.  Still, he lifted Yamato up by the neck and tossed him 
down like a rag-doll.  "The WHOLE truth.  I saw Fiss' vision.  I want 
everything else."
	Fiss put away his sword and gave Lucifer a dirty look as he 
helped Yamato to his feet.  "More dream invading?  I know some hackers 
who would rip you apart just on the principal of privacy."
	"Tell them that if they try, I'll turn all their computers into 
Apple II's." Lucifer flashed him a smile, then walked back over to the 
fire to make sure it kept burning.  
	Yamato nodded to Chris, signaling he was okay.  "Fine.  The whole 
story." He sighed.  "It's a story about a very...very stupid man." He 
walked over to the fire, guarded by Chris, who was still between him 
and Lucifer.  
	"The whole story." Yamato sighed.  "Start to finish."

	"Back when God and Lucifer were just Mages working for a living, 
I was just a blacksmith." He sighed.  "Not making much money, I might 
add.  Nobody thought a ten-year-old smith was worth his weight in spit, 
though I could make swords and armor that you could test against lava.
	"When the famous mages called on me, I was overwhelmed.  It was 
the highest honor I could ever dare to dream of.  To fashion weapons 
for these two men.  Even though I had no idea what exactly they wanted, 
I knew it would be something very special." He chuckled.  "Too special.  
They sat down with me and started to explain what exactly would be 
required for me to form these amazing swords and artifacts."
	Lucifer nodded.  "For a while there, I thought you would leave.  
We were scared there would be nobody else of any skill who would take 
the job."
	"You were ten?" Chris smiled.  
	Yamato nodded.  "Oh yes.  A good thing too.  It took nearly ten 
more years just to make the blasted things.  Capturing the universe 
into metal is not nearly as poetic as it sounds.
	"But I succeeded.  With the spells of the Azers, and my metal, we 
actually formed the Seven Keys...or so they're called in other 
universes." Yamato continued, clearing his throat.  "Sometimes, I wish 
I never did, though.  Things would have been much simpler.
	"When I had finished, and all hell was breaking lose, I saw the 
power in my swords.  I saw what kind of power they gave to those men 
and women who held them." He smiled slightly.  "I was so proud.  For 
while the Angels had the power, I had given it to them."
	"But?" Chris added.
	"But..." Yamato sighed.  "Power is more inciting than sex, 
wealthier than gold, and is the strongest drug in the world.  I started 
to get jealous." He shook his head.  "After all, I had given all these 
great and terrible people so much power, yet had none beyond small 
tokens of respect they all had for me.  I wanted a piece of the power 
too.  It seemed only fair."
	Both angels nodded, silent.  
	"So, I made my Casting Block." Yamato growled, mostly to himself.  
"I was so fucking stupid...I had no idea what I was playing with...I 
just played with it." He sighed.  "I went to the forge and I gathered 
the tiny chunks of each key that had chipped off or been sharpened 
away.  I mixed them with a metal that took me years just to buy a 
handful of.  In human science, I think it would be the equivalent of 
Hydrogen Metal."
	"That's not possible!" Chris frowned.
	"Not back home, anyway." Yamato smiled.  "In the time it took me 
to gather the materials, I leaned Theban and the spells needed to cast 
the right spells.  I played with them like building blocks and formed 
my own spells...not even realizing what I was playing with until years 
later."
	"What...exactly...was this Casting Block?" Chris asked.
	Yamato thought for a moment.
	"Think of the universe as a big ball of water in space." He said.  
"That water is the power and physical and thought and everything spooky 
that makes up a universe.  We only live in the space between 
molecules."
	Chris nodded.  "Okay.  Simple enough."
	"Now, when you make a Key, some of that water is frozen.  You 
grab a handful of that universe-water, and you put it in an ice-cube-
tray shaped like a sword-forge.  When you make the sword, not only does 
it pick up that water, but the water actually freezes into the sword.  
You have a very powerful, sword-shaped ice-cube."
	"Okay." 
	Yamato nodded, then took a deep breath.  "Think of the Casting 
Block as a water pump."
	Chris blinked.  "What do you mean?"
	"What I mean is that it could take raw, uncontrolled Universe, 
and move it around at whim.  It could such the powers of the Cosmos and 
put them anywhere you needed.  While the Keys are static, the Block was 
dynamic.  You know what kind of power the Keys have...now think of what 
happens when you can control the water in it's un-interrupted, liquid 
state."
	"I don't think I want to." Chris replied with a weak smile.  
	"Exactly." Yamato sighed.  "I used it once.  Just once.  Luckily, 
what I saw was enough for me to never use it again until we escaped."  
His eyes were distant and haunted by memory.  "You can't imagine...what 
it was like...to watch them die...all over again..."
	Even Lucifer seemed slightly disheveled by that ghostly remark.  
He glanced at Fiss, worried.  
	Yamato snapped out of it slowly.  "I vowed never to use it unless 
faced with impossible odds.  I instead used the knowledge I gained from 
it to teach the Knights.  Better than anyone, I suppose I knew how the 
universe worked.
	"Then, as all things come, it was suddenly over.  Decades later, 
when I had thought the new society was finally working, and the new 
Knights had been born and brought to me to be taught, Tumbler came."
	
	"Who?" Lucifer blinked.
	"Bone Man." Chris whispered.
	Lucifer turned white.  
	"Wait a second." Chris frowned.  "How did all seven of the 
Knights fail to stop him??  I was almost able to kill him myself when 
he attacked Earth."
	"You WHAT?" Lucifer nearly fell over.  "HOW!?!?!"
	"Please, you two." Yamato chuckled.  "I promise I'll explain that 
part too.  Just let me finish."
	
	"By the time anyone realized it, half the Knights were dead, and 
their Keys warped, ready to help the asshole pop our universe like a 
bubble." Yamato continued.  "He eventually did succeed, as we all know.  
But I though that if I got at least one of the Knights and his Key 
away, the rest of you all had a chance."
	Lucifer frowned.  
	Yamato smiled.  "You may think I wanted to save our own hides, my 
friend, but you don't realize that I was trying to save you too." He 
took a deep breath.  "Fiss was the closest to me.  After all, he was 
born from my daughter.  I couldn't ignore that, no matter how hard I 
tried.  There was no way I could be completely impartial, so I took him 
with me.  He would have to be the Key that was sacrificed."
	"Sacrificed?" Fiss looked down at his sword.  "I don't get it?"
	"I thought that if Tumbler didn't have all the swords, he could 
never completely destroy our universe." He replied.  "Even if everyone 
died, at least we would have existed.  I knew the weight of that, even 
back then.
	"So I had to take you out of the way." Yamato smiled.  "To tell 
you the truth, I expected us to die.  We would probably end up half way 
through limbo or something equally hideous.  Turns out, though, I 
underestimated the powers in my little Casting Block, and it worked 
perfectly." He turned to Lucifer.  "I never meant to save our own asses 
at the expense of you all.  If Fiss stayed, he would have only aided 
your oblivion.  At least this way, there was a possibility of 
salvation."
	Lucifer pondered this new information quietly as Chris got a 
kettle together and put it next to the fire.  
	In a much quieter, softer voice, Yamato continued with the next 
part of the story.

	"I was such an idiot." He sighed.  "I forgot that, despite his 
youth, Azrael had already earned his wings.  When we left the 
universe...collapsing behind us just hours later...Fiss lost his wings.  
Without the Pool in existence, there were no longer such things."
	Chris glanced up and found Yamato's eyes apologetic.  "I don't 
remember." He smiled.  "It must have hurt, though."
	"Oh, it did." Yamato chuckled.  "For about a day, you kept 
screaming how you would have rather had your chest ripped apart from 
Bone Man.  We had landed on Enceladus, luckily, and the cold lessened 
the pain." His eyes closed.  "It was after, though, when I realized 
what you had really lost.  You didn't just lose the wings, but the Word 
as well.  The thing that had ruled your entire being and soul for your 
life.  I was lucky...born before the Word was cast.  You, 
unfortunately, were hit hard.
	"I remember weeks on end, where you would just sit around the 
fire, watching it burn.  You never moved.  You just had this horrible 
look on your face.  Like you had lost the most important thing in the 
world."
	"You should see me when I lost Nacho's keys." Chris laughed 
quietly.  "Now THAT was horrible."
	"Eventually, though, we found others." Yamato sighed, continuing.  
"The Saturn people were friendly, and I knew it could be the fresh 
start you needed to get away from this mean streak that had been 
enveloping your soul as Azrael." He smiled.  "I used the Casting Block 
once more.  Changing the reality around us so we fit in.  You were to 
be the son of the ruling family, and I your grandfather." He shook his 
head.  "Even turned back our ages a few years.  It all seemed so 
natural to them.  It WAS their reality after I changed it.  YOU even 
believed it after a while.  It seemed that you needed something to 
replace your wings, so you latched onto the new life with a passion."
	"Everyone has to have a hobby." Chris nodded.
	Yamato nodded back.  "Your axe was useless on Saturn, though.  It 
seemed the only thing holding you to your roots here in the past.  Ugly 
damn weapon, too." He chuckled.  "What the hell was I thinking when I 
made it?"
	He took a sip from the cup Chris handed him, steadying his hands.  
"So, I decided to do one more little miracle." He sighed.  "I still 
don't know if it was a good idea or not.  That's up to you to decide 
for me."
	"What did you do?" Chris asked.
	"Well, I heard tales of a kind of sword being made by people on 
Prince Darien's world."  Yamato's eyes brightened slightly.  "One day, 
I asked one of the royal pages to go down to Earth and bring me back 
one.  He found the most stunning katana I had ever seen." He sighed 
happily.  "It was truly a work of art.  Everything I had ever hoped for 
in my own swords, but never achieved with such simplistic perfection." 
He smiled mischievously.  "So, I went to the workshop, locked myself in 
for a few months, and I remade your axe into the katana at your lap."
	"Where did the rest of it go?" Chris asked suddenly.
	"What?"
	"Even with the wakizashi, that axe was huge." Chris leaned 
forward.  "Where did the rest go?"
	Yamato nodded.  "True.  I had to discard a lot of the axe. Most 
of it was un-tempered shit anyway.  The edge was the best steel, so I 
used it...mostly...in the wakizashi."
	Chris frowned.  "Mostly??  In the smaller sword?  What did you 
use in my katana then?"
	
	Yamato smiled, leaning forward.  "My Casting Block."
 
	"As my final chance to use it, I told the Casting Block to change 
your Key into...not only a full Key...ignoring the chunks I shaved off 
the axe, but also one of the Universe, so you could draw power from 
it." Yamato said proudly.  
	Chris looked down at his sword.  "Your...Casting Block???"
	"The katana theory was perfect." He said with badly hidden 
enthusiasm.  Swords were his life, and he loved talking about them.  "A 
tough, Key jacket...indestructible and flawless...around the softer 
Casting Block core." He smiled.  "Not only does the core give the Key 
more power than you could ever imagine, but because you're not in 
direct contact with the Block, you actually have more control over it."
	"Wait..." Chris blinked.  "You mean that's why I could cut 
through Tumbler?  Because I was actually changing reality to let my 
sword cut him?"
	Yamato nodded.  His smile was gone, though, as the weight of the 
situation hit him.  "I never new it would still be active.  You see, I 
initially used it to seal it away safely in your sword...the only 
possible way to protect reality from it being used as I had been using 
it.  By then, I realized that even if I was very careful, something 
would get changed that I would regret later.  It's just too powerful to 
be used by mortal minds. 
	"Though it was that power that let you keep your connections to 
your Key and to this old universe...and even bring it back when the 
possibility presented itself..." Yamato's head hung slightly.  "You may 
be putting us all in great danger just by having it.  You control a 
weapon that doesn't use power...it creates it.  It molds nothing into 
anything, and anything into anything else."

	Chris looked down at his sword like it had just turned into a 
rattlesnake.  "Oh..."
	"I can't teach you how to use it." Yamato said quietly.  "It 
isn't like Theban, where you can just look up a spell and use it.  You 
can still touch it's power, though...probably instinctually by now if 
you were able to use it against Tumbler." He gave Chris a hard look, 
like he was going to regret the next thought on his mind.  
	"But you must do something for me."	
	"Like what?" Chris asked weakly, suddenly feeling light-headed. 
	"You once took a vow that you would never use it's power unless 
there were no other options." The older man sighed.  "I need you to 
make that promise again.  I need to know your wings are behind it.  
That the true Knight of Fiss gives his undying soul to that cause, for 
the only think I know that could stop you from accidentally ripping 
universes apart."
	His voice was rasp and deathly serious.

	"You MUST not use that power.  Not unless the alternative is 
worse."

	Chris' knees gave out, and he slumped down on the ground.  
"O...of course..."
	"Lucifer.  Show him what to do." Yamato said, eyes clenched 
tight.  "Please."
	Lucifer couldn't believe Chris just volunteered to be in the 
position to lose his wings.  "Are you sure about this?" he whispered. 
	"Yes." Chris nodded.  "I've seen what that kind of power can do.  
I don't WANT access to it."
	"Then..." he sighed.  "You must first vow upon your Wings, and 
your Word."
	"I, Christopher Fiss..." he replied with a steady voice "...vow 
to never touch the power of the Casting Stone until it is absolutely 
necessary."
	Yamato nodded, signaling it would be enough.
	"Upon my Wings, and my Word." Chris finished.

	Lucifer nodded, then showed him what to do next.  Chris 
recognized it from what Michael and some of the others had done.  He 
brought his right hand up to his mouth, pressed his middle and pointer 
fingers to his lips, and made a cross at his front.

	"Thank you." Yamato sighed, opening his eyes again.  "I am so 
sorry I had to make you do that." A tear was rolling down the side of 
his face.  "Please forgive a foolish old man."
	Lucifer walked over to Yamato and lay a friend's hand on his 
shoulder.  "You're not a fool." He smiled.  "Just a very good mage 
trapped in a blacksmith's body."



	Nobody slept that night, and the tea kept coming until early 
morning.  



	Lucifer and Yamato recited stories of decades and centuries past, 
while Fiss listened intently.  But every once in a while, he'd look to 
his sword.
	And was scared to touch it.	






















                             Chapter 15










	Days stretched into weeks...because that's what days do.  Each 
day longer than the days on Earth.  Messengers on the outskirts of 
SkitZ had reported that Michael and Maury were returning safely home.  
A good thing, too, since other scouts had reported movement in the 
armies of Bikko and Weskic.  
	The days were also getting shorter.  Those who had still kept 
their watches found that the daylight fit almost exactly with 24-hour 
Earth time.  The second half of Summer was almost ready to leave them 
and slide into a cooler Fall.  
	Miharu was still silent most of the time.  Beavis kept her 
constant company, but she welcomed it.  Rei did the best she could to 
keep her daughter's spirits up, but their conversations were short and 
often pointless.  The best they got along was when they trained 
together.  Miharu would be graduating to a brown belt in Cherri-Hill 
Karate very soon.  What else could they do to spend the time?
	Dave had not given up hope on his many projects.  Still searching 
to a way to use whatever spooky powers lay in this universe to save 
Chris' life, but it had already been almost three months.  Nobody BUT 
Dave wanted to even think about what Chris might have looked like at 
the moment...decaying at the bottom of some distant water well.  
	Demeter was almost certain Andrea was possessed or something, as 
she was so quiet lately, but she had promised to tell him why very 
soon, so he was content to wait.  
	
	He knew something was up when he walked into their little 
bedroom, and candles were lit along the walls.  A tiny, polished wooden 
table was in the corner, sporting two more candles that had soothing, 
blue-white flames rolling on the support of their wicks.  A home-made 
meal was in the midst of being set up.  It looked much more Terran than 
the SkitZ chefs usually cooked, so it must have been Andrea flexing her 
culinary muscles again.
	If Demeter didn't know better, he could have sworn it was a 
romantic, candle-lit evening for two.  Not a very strange thing, 
considering their intimacy level had been...increased...during the last 
few months before arriving in this strange new universe.
	Still, Andrea usually centered a romantic evening around music 
and conversation in a big, fluffy chair or couch that seemed just right 
for...well...Demeter wasn't about to let his mind go to the gutter.  
Beavis had taught him to reserve such 'heated' thoughts for the 'heat' 
of the moment, and use the more romantically inclined ones in public.  
It saved embarrassing occurrences with the front of your pants.  

	While he was musing about the time he found out what 'Morning 
Wood' was, Demeter put down the groceries he had been picking up, and 
decided to look for Andrea himself.  
	Zistles are a naturally playful race, so Demeter started tip-
toeing around, ready to scare the hell out of Hooze when she least 
expected it.  It took only a thought, and his skin and clothes (part of 
his skin that he had learned to mold into fabric, and discard if 
necessary) turned slightly clear, giving him the look of a ghost as he 
trotted silently through the little apartment-sized quarters, poking 
his head in and out of different rooms, looking for her.  "Hehe.  
Heeeerrreee Hoozie Hoozie Hoozie!" he whispered. 

	The logical place to find her would be the kitchen.  So, Demeter, 
always the intellectual giant, poked his head through the doorway 
first. "Ah...HAA!" he stopped himself.

	Nobody there.  A boiling pot of water and some freshly strained 
noodles were on a serving plate nearby, but no Hooze.  

	"Mm, okay..." he turned around when he heard a small noise from 
down the hall.  The bathroom!  He grinned.  Hehe. Though she would 
probably hate him for this, it would be worth it to see the look on her 
face.

	He slowly opened the door, poked his head inside, and yelled 
"BOO!"

	Andrea gasped, turning around, and nearly bashed her head on the 
toilet as she saw Demeter's floating head.  "DEMETER!" she yelled.  
Rolls of toilet paper...and a large brick...followed.
	He was chuckling to himself at how well that worked when he 
realized something.  Slowly, he became visible again, and he walked in.  
Andrea was catching her breath, over the edge of the toilet.  "Don't 
you EVER do that again!" she sighed.  "At least not right now!"
	"You're sick?" he gasped, rushing to her side.  "Are you okay?  
Do you want me to call Dave?"
	"Oh no...Dave's already offered QUITE enough of his help." She 
sighed, still looking rather queasy.  "I never thought it would be like 
this though.  They never show THIS part on the TV or movies."
	
	Demeter blinked.  
	
	"Good!  You know what's wrong, then." He sighed.  "So how long 
does it take to get over?"
	"About nine months." Andrea hiccuped.  "Ugh.  That didn't taste 
very good."
	"Nine months?" Demeter frowned.  "That's one helluva persistent 
virus!" he blinked.  "I hope I didn't pass it on to you from Pluto or 
something."
	Andrea had to laugh.  "Oh, you passed it onto me, alright.  But I 
don't think it was from Pluto."
	Demeter cocked his head to the side.  "Oh?"
	She looked up to see his "I have no idea what's going on" look.  
She raised an eyebrow.  "You have no idea what's going on, do you."
	He nodded.  "Uh, Chicken Pox??"
	She shook her head, holding in a laugh.
	"Rooster Pox?" Demeter ventured. 
	"Morning sickness." Andrea smiled weakly.
	Demeter nodded, then frowned.  "But...it's evening.  Wouldn't 
that make it evening sickness?"
	Smiling, Andrea shook her head.  "It's still called morning 
sickness.  Now, did Beavis stop teaching you Shakespeare long enough to 
mention what morning sickness means?"
	Demeter searched his brain for a mention.  "Oh!  Morning 
sickness!!" he smiled.  "That means you're pregnant!"

	Andrea nodded.

	Demeter's face went blank, and he fainted, smacking his head on 
the floor.  

	Hooze frowned, then sighed.  "Well, at least his head didn't 
crack off this time.  That wouldn't have been too pleasant right now." 
She hiccuped again.  "Ugh."








	When he came to, Andrea had finally managed to pull together the 
evening she had planned, and he was seated across from her on the 
table.  "Uh..." he rubbed his forehead.  "Sorry..."
	"It's okay." Hooze smiled back.  "I reacted pretty much the same 
way when I found out."
	There was a long, long pause.
	"I'm the father..." he raised an eyebrow.  "Right??"
	Andrea laughed.  "I can pretty much guarantee that, Demeter.  
Unless I was abducted by aliens and artificially inseminated."
	Demeter suddenly had a worried look on his face.
	"It was a joke." She smiled.  "Yes, you're the father."
	He leaned back in his chair with a kind of a grin, but mostly a 
dazed look on his face.  "I'm going to be a father..." he paused.  
"Wow."
	"Mph...that's the easy part..." she sighed.  "I'm going to be a 
mother." She closed her eyes.  "That's...kinda why I set up this little 
dinner.  We have some decisions to make, and we better make them soon."
	Even an entity from Pluto could detect the serious tone in 
Andrea's voice.  Demeter nodded, letting her go on.  
	"First of all, so long as I'm sure it's possible to have a 
healthy child, I'm going to HAVE a healthy child." Andrea said.  "I've 
given it a lot of thought, and I'm not as scared of being a mom than I 
am of regretting not being one, and wondering if I made the wrong 
choice."
	He nodded.  "Good idea." He smiled.  "Better safe than sorry."
	"But..." Hooze interrupted.  "One thing I want to make clear 
is..." she took a deep breath.  "I can handle it myself.  It's not like 
I'm very busy usually anyway, and..."
	Demeter's face nearly dropped.  "You...you don't want me to..."
	Andrea blinked, almost surprised.  Immediately, she felt 
extremely embarrassed.  "Oh...NO!  Demeter!  No, not like that!" she 
reached over the table and grabbed his hands, taking them into her own.  
"All I'm saying is that..." she sighed.  "I don't know...ever since I 
can remember, I've been so scared of getting into one of those 
relationships where all the guy wants is to knock me up and leave." 
	"You know I'm not like that." Demeter whispered.  "I didn't 
travel across the Solar System to knock you up."
	"I know...I know..." Andrea apologized.  "I just...need you to 
know that...if you ever...need...to leave...I'll be okay." She sighed.  
"Sorry...that didn't sound nearly so simple as I thought it would."
	Demeter wasn't too sure how to respond to that, so he didn't.  
	"Second of all..." Andrea took a deep breath.  "I'd really like 
it if you'd stay."
	Like a light-switch, Demeter's mood flipped around, and he was 
suddenly wearing a large, genuine grin.  "Really??"
	"Hey, I've kept you around this long..." Hooze smiled back.
	They both just smiled for a while, looking into each other's 
eyes.  "Wow...I'm going to be a dad..." Demeter sighed contently.  
Suddenly, he looked very panicked.  "Wait a second!  I don't know HOW 
to be a dad!"
	"That's better than most guys." Andrea smiled, squeezing his hand 
reassuringly.  "Now, are we going to eat?  I have an excuse to pig-out 
now, and I'm not about to waste it." She chuckled. 
	"Wow...I'm going to be a dad..." Demeter said to himself.
	Andrea just chuckled, then started eating.






















                            Chapter 16










	Fiss barely slept that night.  All he saw were the clouds sliding 
by like magic.  The night slipping into light.  Despite the thought 
that it would itch like a wool sweater, his wings were rather 
comfortable.  His own personal sleeping bag.  He'd still have to ask 
Michael how to turn them into a coat, though.
	Mmm. And also how to get naked.  After all, there were occasions 
where feathers would just get in the way.

	But mostly, his sword occupied his thoughts.  All those times he 
held and used it.  He knew that it was able to kick out some pretty 
nasty power as it was...but...
	Cross universes?  Change reality?  

	Each time, an Alternate Reality formed.  

	Reprogrammed and reprogrammed like someone trying to get their 
code right.  There was no such thing as a small change.  Each change 
rippled through the entire universe...or two...or three...
	Still...there was only one Reality.  The rest just became the 
past.  Have to live in one reality.  Otherwise, everything goes to 
shit.  Echoes of lives you never even existed will haunt you.

	Just like now.

	At least he was haunted by wings, a sword and Azrael. Not his own 
head.  

	Azrael.  That one was about to be fixed.  
	
	Strike Fiss perched on top of the tree he had cut the top off.  
Sticking out from the back of his favorite coat were his wings.  They 
weren't huge, or deadly looking.  They weren't glowing white and 
spooky-silk like.  However, they were HIS wings.  They felt so good.  
Felt so good to have them again.  
	As he looked out over the forests, he could see where he had to 
go.  He could feel the others.  He could feel where Azrael was.  

	"Fiss?" came a voice.  Yamato was down below, looking up.  "What 
are you doing?"

	"We need to leave." Fiss replied, putting on his sunglasses and 
straightening out his vest.  "I have some inner fallen angels to 
banish."

	"Uh.  We have to talk about that, Chris." Yamato sighed.  "You 
see...while we were busy coming to the hole in the ground, Lucifer 
tried to...divert Azrael from the Cave of Thrones."
	A small whistle was all Yamato heard, and Fiss dropped to the 
ground in a perch, grinning.  "Sorry.  Just testing the wings."
	"Sure." Yamato smiled, but his smile faded.  "So anyway, we have 
a problem.  We need to get Michael into the loop."
	"Why?" Chris frowned.  "How big a problem?"
	"You have no idea." Yamato sighed. "Come on.  Pack light.  You 
get to practice using your wings for something."
	"Oh?"
	"I don't have wings." He laughed.  "You have to carry me."










	"I thought you were going to talk to Cassiel!" Tsirya yelled as 
they walked across the plaza.  "You just wasted two weeks of traveling 
for a five minute conversation with Gabriel!"
	Michael frowned and strode past his advisor.  "It's not that 
simple.  We don't have the resources to contact Cassiel.  Not unless 
you want to start Revelations early."
	Maury gave Tsirya a look that could have melted stone.  "If you 
don't mind, I'd like to change my clothes and have something to eat.  I 
smell like sea-water, and I don't exactly enjoy it."	
	Tsirya sighed.  "Fine.  But I'm calling another meeting for two 
hours time."
	"Good." Michael nodded.  "We can figure out what to do then."
	"You mean you don't have a plan?" Maury asked, running to keep up 
to Michael.  
	"If we need one in a hurry, sure." He nodded.  "What are the 
damages so far??"
	"We've lost another three thousand in the last two days.  One 
main assault force seems to be spearing the attack, but it's taking 
it's time." He replied, holding a small parchment in his hands as he 
recited the reports.  "According to our commanders, they're fighting 
very sloppy.  It's almost as if they're not trying.  There's still 
about three Hosts in the attack, though.  More than enough to level the 
City if they reach it."
	"This is bad." SkitZ frowned.  "Fiss wouldn't fight like this 
unless he was gloating."
	"Over what?" Maury demanded.  "If his armies keep fighting like 
that, we might be able to nuke them!"
	"That's what we'll find out eventually." SkitZ replied.  "Fiss 
has a secret that I know I'm not going to enjoy." He smiled slightly.  
"Luckily, you guys are MY secret."
	







	

	Across the continent, thousands of kilometers away, and out of 
the range of SkitZ's scouts and spies, there was a small village of a 
hundred or so people named Racinette.  Neutral in the eyes of the 
Houses and their wars, yet small enough that they were allowed to stay 
that way.  
	A small cooker skittered out into the street from behind the 
alley, chased by five laughing kids with tree branches in their hands.  
"Cook cook cook!" they chanted and giggled.
	The poor cooker, outnumbered and being chased by the kids who 
each had the intent to make him explode into a small ball of flame, 
decided the gig was up. It stopped running, accepting his fate.  
"PeeP!" it peeped.  
	"Hehe!" the kids chanted.  "I'm Azrael!" the biggest boy said 
proudly, holding a big chunky stick.  "I am going to smite you!  Hehe!"
	"Oh no!" the others began to circle the little cooker, who had 
curled up and rolled over.  "Hehe!  Angel of death!  Angel of death!"
	"Look out Mr. Cooker!" another chuckled.
	"Shh!" the biggest said, raising his stick a little higher.  
"Hehehe!  Ready?  One...two...THREE!!!"
	The boy slammed his stick down on the little cooker...

	KRRRAAAAAAAAACK!  BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!

	A wave of liquid fire slammed into the kids, filling the entire 
street with red-hot flames. 

	Buildings lit up into roaring cinders as they were uprooted from 
their foundations and thrown into the air.  The river of fire shifted 
and ripped through the ground, leaving a disgusting trench of charred 
skeletons and clay, only to level out on the other street of the little 
town to toast the buildings untouched by the chaos.
	Just as it faded, not quite done destroying the last group of 
houses, there was a massive sound of air rushing around the trees.  It 
was like a hurricane in it's ferocity, nearly putting out the fires it 
had just created.  But, just before they did simmer to a stop, the jet 
of flame returned.  This time even brighter and hotter.  
	The last dozen or so small houses were pushed down into the dirt 
as the flame became a cyclone pounding down from above.  A massive 
cloak of darkness was cast by the smoke and by something in the air.  

	Then, just as quickly as it had started, the flames were gone.  A 
terrible howling wind threw the dusty, smoking remnants of the town 
around like match-sticks, before fading off into the distance.

	

	A scant minute later, Azrael appeared from behind the billowing 
smoke.  His shiny black wings wrapped around his body, contrasting his 
perfectly white robes and hood.  
	He walked over to where the boys had been playing with the 
cooker, and was delighted to find the skull of the one calling himself 
Azrael.  
	Kneeling down, he grabbed the charred bone in his hand, ignoring 
that it was still warm.  "Oooh..." he whispered in a soft, calm voice 
that would have chilled the boy to his bones...except that was all that 
was left of him.  A thin smile crossed Azrael's lips.  "I'm sorry, 
young man.  I don't like impersonators."
	THIPH!  He crushed the dead boy's skull into dust, then shook the 
gray powder off of his hands.  

	Azrael turned to the sky and smiled.  "I must say, I like this 
new toy."

	Raphael appeared behind him like usual, inspecting the damage.  
Even he was shocked at how quickly the town was decimated.  "My God..."
	"God's dead." Azrael replied sharply.  His voice never left it's 
calm whisper, though.  "But after Revelations, I intend to take his 
job."
	The larger angel said nothing as Azrael stood to his full height 
and walked back into the smoke.  "Tell the Hosts to prepare for the 
final assault." He allowed himself a brief chuckle.  "I want to show 
Michael who he's up against."
	
	
	
	

















                             Chapter 17










	Michael glared out over the horizon as the sky turned golden red 
in the sunrise.  His wings cut the air like a flag as he perched on top 
of his City.  
	He could feel it.  It was going to happen today.  Revelations.  
The Angel War.  Again.  This time, though, it wasn't even for any good 
reason.  It was because Azrael would gladly sacrifice them all to have 
them all under his everlasting control.
	
	How cheesy was that?

	All the Noize had done to Michael was stop him from having a good 
night's sleep.  Well...that and going a little crazy now and then...but 
that often worked to his advantage.  
	At least he hadn't become so paranoid of the Noize that he would 
do anything to stop it from coming again.
	If it was to come again, SkitZ would accept it.  He had heard it 
enough.  It would not frighten him again.  He would stand proudly as 
his reality ripped itself apart...to become fuel to a race he would 
never know.  He would stand like an angel.  Not cower like a devil.
	A smile crossed his lips.  Even Lucifer hadn't been this insane.  
He never believed there would be a day he despised someone more than 
Lucifer, but it had happened. 

	Today, it would start.  A battle that would last...maybe...a 
week.  Every day would be the lost of a Host or more.  Seven thousand 
angels would burn tonight.  If they were lucky, most of them would be 
Azrael's.  If they were not?  Then at least the war would be over much 
sooner, and they could get on with whatever Armageddon was coming. 

	The sun rose over the continent, and the wind picked Michael's 
coat and wings off his back in a brief flutter.  The Noize was 
gone...again...for that brief few minutes.  Replaced by the music in 
the sunrise.  
	He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty air.  The 
Knight of SkitZ leapt off the top of his City, and caught air in his 
wings, gliding down to the entrance below.

	Now, all he needed was an act of SkitZ.












	Even though he was new at this, Chris was having little trouble 
keeping up with Lucifer as they glided across the forests and lakes 
below.  Yamato hung on tight around Chris' arms as they flew, enjoying 
the ride the best they could.  "We'll be entering SkitZ countryside 
very soon.  Lucifer's going to have to go to the front battle and see 
if he can help.  I'm going to go to the city and talk with SkitZ and 
his advisors."
	"What about me?" Fiss asked anxiously.  
	"Find your family." Yamato smiled simply.
	"God..." Chris sighed.  "Hooze is going to shit on me.  How long 
have we been away?"
	Yamato raised an eyebrow.  "About four months, Earth-time.  
That's only three here."
	"FUCK!" Fiss gasped.  "How long was I out?"
	"A few weeks." Lucifer chuckled, hovering next to him.  "You have 
to stop thinking in terms of minute-rice and bullet trains here.  Life 
is much more leisurely.  Things take time."  His coal black wings made 
a flap.  "Flying is the only 'FAST' thing."
	Fiss smacked his forehead with his hand.  "Dammit...they're all 
going to kill me.  Hooze is going to launch Demeter through my skull, 
then Rei's going to toast the remains, and Miharu's going to chop me up 
into little cubes for Maury to saut‚ me and fry me up with some 
potatoes."
	"Mmm. Sounds delicious." Lucifer replied helpfully.
	"Don't worry.  Blame it on me." Yamato replied.  "Just land on 
the shore over there." He pointed down below.

	Fiss, Yamato and Lucifer all swooped down and made a graceful 
landing on the sandy shore.  In the distance, Chris could swear he saw 
what looked like a blue and gray pyramid sitting on the ocean's 
surface.  "Wow...what's that?" he pointed.
	"Michael's home town." Yamato replied, taking off his backpack 
and rummaging through it.  "Now, if Azrael survived the Cave of 
Thrones, that's either very bad, or unimportant."
	"I didn't see any Dominions on the way over." Lucifer frowned.
	"So?" Chris asked.  "Is that a BAD thing?"
	Lucifer and Yamato both glanced at each other.  "Yes." They both 
nodded.  
	"Now, because you're also 'Fiss', you might be able to stop the 
Throne by just assuming control." Yamato said, ignoring Chris' 
questioning look.  "You know Theban?"
	Fiss nodded.  "I think so."
	Both the other men sighed, but accepted the answer.  "Okay.  If 
you see the Throne, just draw the symbol of Fiss on it.  Use your sword 
if you have to."
	"Wait." Chris frowned.  "What the fuck is a Throne?"
	
	Lucifer and Yamato blinked.

	"We don't really know." Lucifer admitted.
	"It's BIG." Yamato said.  "From what was recovered from the old 
scripts, they were said to be big."
	"Not just big." Lucifer added.  "REALLY BIG."
	"Mm...okay." Fiss nodded.  "I'll keep an eye out for really big 
things."
	"Okay.  Let's get too it then." Yamato said, taking out a pair of 
shoes.  They were small planks of wood with Theban carved in them.  
"I'll get to the city and tell everyone what's going on."
	Fiss and Lucifer nodded.  
	"And..." Yamato smiled.  "In case we don't get a chance to say 
goodbye later..."
	"We will." Chris replied.  "I wouldn't worry about that." He 
smiled.  "Come on, Lucy." He turned to Lucifer.  
	"Please don't call me that." Lucifer scowled.
	"Oh come on...EVERYONE loves Lucy!" Fiss grinned happily.  "I 
know *I* love Lucy!"
	"I'm going to hurt you for that one."
	"Both of you, get serious." Yamato grumbled as he put on his 
sandals.  
	"I am serious." Lucifer grumbled.  "I never knew there were so 
many jokes about me.  Christopher here seems to collect them."
	"Yeah, but there are still more Jesus jokes out there." Chris 
promised.  "Jesus walks into the inn and hands the guy at the desk two 
nails and says:"
	"Don't say it." 
	"Can you put me up for the night?" Chris laughed.
	Lucifer growled.  "I hate you."
	"Oooh!  How about this one!" he cleared his throat.  "Aardvark 
walks into a bar.  Bartender says 'Hey!  We don't get many aardvarks in 
here!' and the aardvark says 'Yeah!  And at these prices you won't get 
very many more!'"
	"I was wrong.  I'd RATHER you told Jesus jokes." Lucifer sighed.  
"Can we just get on with the killing and the ripping of flesh?"
	"All in due time." Yamato nodded.  "Take Fiss to the battle." He 
told Lucifer.  "See if you can get a dent in the armies before someone 
we don't want to see dead gets dead." He walked over to the water began 
to walk on it's surface with the aide of his shoes.  
	"What armies?" Chris frowned.  "You mean those Hosts?"
	"I doubt there's more than ten or so." Yamato called back.  "Have 
fun!  Watch out for the other Knights!" he continued walking over the 
waves toward the pyramid.  
	Fiss turned to Lucifer.  "Ten?  You mean...seventy thousand 
plus?"
	"Oh come on...it doesn't sound so big if you just say seventy 
grand." Lucifer smiled.  He then flapped his wings and shot up into the 
air.

	Fiss sighed and took to the sky, heading back out over the 
continent.



















                            Chapter 18










	As the sand storm faded, it was replaced by two clouds.  Then, 
three and four.  Each cloud rumbled like an earthquake and flashed with 
angry lightning that would never strike the ground.  
	Slowly, each one dissolved, raining down it's cargo of angels.  
Michael's angels stood on the ground.  Assembled first.  Their eyes 
watching as more clouds appeared on the horizon.  Each one held their 
own numbers.  Despite the sky becoming black with Hosts, each one of 
the House of SkitZ stood proud and tall.
	They were not the cowards who needed to outnumber their enemies.  
They were the ones protecting their home just over the battle-field's 
horizon.  They were the ones fighting for the Word. 
	A small legion of Cherubim hovered over the leader's heads, 
casting tiny halos over them.  A'albiel was acting as the Hosts 
commander today.  The battle was his to win or lose.  
	"How's everyone feeling tonight?" the little cherub asked 
cheerfully.  
	A few of the higher angels laughed.
	The other lead Host had finished 'raining' down and was facing 
them off.  "Mmm, well, I can't say this is going to be as fun as 
Gabriel's nine-thousandth the birthday party..." the little cherub 
sighed, putting out his smoke on the palm of his hand without wincing.  
"But damn if I'm not going to enjoy cracking a few angel-wannabe 
skulls."
	They all withdrew their swords.  A chorus of singing metal caused 
the other Host to take a collective step back.  "FOR THE HOUSE OF 
SKITZ!" the little cherub yelled.

	Each and every one of the thousand angels in the front charged 
their swords, and a collective wave of light shot out slamming into the 
opposing army, throwing them aside.
	When they had regained consciousness, the two Hosts were wedged 
apart by the SkitZ, cutting their power in half.  From then on, 
strategy was left to the amazing, skillful dance of war.  











	Not as far away as they would have liked to be, yet beyond the 
cries and yells of the erupting battle, Maury, Andrea, Demeter, Rei, 
Miharu, Beavis and Michael slid across the plain on another plank of 
wood.  This one was much faster, and also armored.  A personal 
transport.  
	Nobody talked.  Everyone just held on.  At the speed they were 
going, they would be clear of the warring Hosts in just a few minutes, 
and if luck prevailed, they would be invading the City of Fiss in less 
than two days.  
	Dave stayed behind to help with the SkitZ's defense, but refilled 
their packs and gave them a bundle of five of their precious Pookies.  
He would have given them the other four remaining ones, but they had 
all agreed not to risk losing them all so early in a war that may not 
be over for weeks.  
	Or more.
	Killing Azrael was not guaranteed to stop the war.  That was for 
certain.  That was IF they could kill him.  Even Michael seemed anxious 
to get it over with so he could concentrate on more mediocre matters.  
	Still, despite the fact they were finally fighting and not just 
sitting around...everyone had a very black mood.  Something wasn't 
right.  Only Miharu seemed content to just sit and watch the ground 
speed by.  
	"You know, if this actually works, you'll all be able to come and 
visit more often." Michael smiled.  "Maybe we could even set up some 
kind of cultural exchange.  Dave was mentioning how magic had started 
to return to your world...we might be able help you use it correctly."
	"No offence, SkitZ," Rei sighed.  "But I just want to go home and 
sleep for a very, very long time."
	Even Miharu seemed to support that idea and she nodded.  "That 
would be nice."
	SkitZ nodded.  "You're right.  Lots of time for that."
	"Or maybe not..." Maury pointed.

	They had been so intent on their forward path that none of them 
had bothered to look to the sky.

	A rather large, menacing rain-cloud had changed course, and was 
moving to intercept them.  This one must have contained at least two 
Hosts, as they couldn't even see the top of it.  It was huge.  "Please 
tell me that means were in for some rain..." Andrea sighed.
	"I'm afraid not." SkitZ replied.  "Everyone hold on.  I'm going 
to see if we can get some more speed out of this thing..." he knelt 
down on the back and began to re-arrange the wooden symbols on the 
deck.  
	Maury took the head position, keeping an eye on their path.  "Uh, 
SkitZ...what were those things Gabriel sent out for us?"
	"Pardon?" SkitZ asked, concentrating on getting the script right.  
	"You know...the ones with the masks?  The Nephie-somethings?"
	"Oh." Michael turned.  "Nephilim?" 
	"Yeah, that's it." Maury smiled.  "Uh, anyway, are they supposed 
to have wings too?" he pointed.

	Michael's jaw dropped as he turned to see what Maury was going on 
about.  "Uriel?"
	"Who?" Rei blinked.  They all turned to where Maury was looking.  
Almost directly in their path stood the tall, lean figure of an angel, 
holding out a rather nasty looking broadsword.  Her face was covered in 
some kind of a blue mask with bright, white eyes and a odd smile on 
it's lips. 
	"SHIT!" Michael yelled, slamming his fist into the script, 
destroying it.  They began to slow down rapidly, all lurching forward 
on their transport.  "POOKIES!  NOW!  She's a KNIGHT!"
	"WHAT!?!" Maury gasped.
	Miharu was already powering up her Pookie.  "Locked, cocked, 
ready to rock!"
	Michael ran over to one corner of the transport and thrust his 
sword out into the ground below.  They slowed down even faster and 
began turning to the left, trying to avoid Uriel.  
	
	The next thing they saw was a rather startled red Dominion, with 
an equally surprised rider on it's back, trying to get the beast to 
swerve out of the way.  "Oh...this is going to suck..." Andrea sighed, 
bracing herself for impact.








	If there was anything left of the transport big enough to be used 
as a toothpick, Rei would have been very surprised.  Maybe it was the 
script or the Dominion's bones that they had ripped through, but there 
wasn't much left of the wood and metal.  
	However, from a quick blink and look around, everyone seemed to 
have survived.  Demeter had taken the brunt of the crash, shielding 
everyone from the impact with his rather impressive morphing abilities.  
Though he was clearly stunned, and the entire front of his chest was 
covered with the guts of a Dominion, he looked pretty good for the 
world's first living air-bag.  
	Hooze was next to him, cradled in one of his arms, and was first 
to get to her feet.  "Everyone okay?" she gasped, helping Rei and 
Miharu to their feet.
	Maury had been lucky and reverted to plasma form just before they 
hit.  He materialized out of a pool of liquid fire a moment later.  
"Get the Pookies!" he scrambled for two of the guns that were in his 
reach.
	Rei wondered why he was in such a hurry, but then remembered the 
big cloud...and the Archangel that had been in their way.  The cloud 
was now gone...but instead had been replaced by a rather disheartening 
number of ground troops with wings, armor, and swords.  She managed to 
reach a spare Pookie as well.  Miharu pressed the 'Fun' button on hers, 
letting it have time to expand into full automatic mode.  "Mom?"
	"I'm okay." She nodded, doing the same.  
	"Everyone survive?" Michael gasped, looking up from the dirt he 
had been momentarily crashed in.  
	"We're fine." Rei replied quickly, noticing they were now 
surrounded by the two Hosts.  "Just a little edgy at hot fucking 
similar this all is to the Pool of Angels incident."
	Beavis floated over to Miharu, guarding her back.  "Just remember 
what we did last time."
	"Yeah, and try to do better." Miharu said.
	Andrea picked up the last spare Pookie that was lying in the 
grass.  "Jan Ken Pon...PAPER!" she swept her hand around them, creating 
a wall of transparent shields.
	They angels around them just stood, smiling.  They were in no 
hurry to rip them apart.
	"What should we do?" Miharu asked, feeling shaky all of a sudden.  
Fourteen thousand angels stared back at her.  Even through the 
protection of Andrea's Paper-spell, it was an intimidating sight for 
the young girl.
	"I don't know..." Michael admitted.  "But if they move, I'm going 
to start killing." He held his sword steady.  
	
	One of the angels, a young man with fuzzy blonde hair and a 
little rapier-like sword, took a deep breath...and sneezed, allergic to 
the grassy plain.

	"Good enough." SkitZ grinned evilly, and to everyone's surprise, 
he jetted up into the air, whipped around his sword, and closed his 
eyes.  "NOOOOOIIIIIZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" he screeched. 
	A physical wall of sound began to fly out from the blade, 
slamming through the Hosts around them.  The effect was terrible, and 
awe-inspiring.  The first layer of ten or so swordsmen nearly liquefied 
under the pounding shockwave.  What was left of their armor and flesh 
flew back into the next layers, breaking bones, necks, and anything 
else that was in it's way.  
	It was already too late by the time the Mages had thought to 
construct sound-barriers, and a good number of them perished in the 
onslaught of Noize.  Almost a thousand angels were ripped apart 
instantly, and another three thousand fell over, clutching their ears 
and screaming in pain.  

	SkitZ fell back down to the ground, breathing hard, yet still 
standing.  The Senshi all looked at him with wide eyes.  
"Sneezing...counts...as...movement..." he gasped happily.  
	A roar broke out as the remaining eleven-thousand angels realized 
the battle was on.  "Oh shit!  Here we GO!" Andrea yelled.  
	Pulses of jacketed anti-matter began to leave green streaks 
through the air, and through the bodies of the unfortunate warriors 
they hit.  SkitZ had bought them enough room to move around in, and 
they were able to push back the Hosts for a while.  
	
	Of course, though, they forgot about Uriel.  

	A small ball of flame flew over their heads, then landed next to 
Michael as he was catching his breath.  He blinked.  Then it flared 
into the woman they had seen earlier blocking their path.  "Oh fuck."
	"Hello, Michael." She whispered in a sweet, low voice.  "Are you 
prepared to hang on the gates of Hades?" she bent down low.  Even 
though she was wearing the mask, he could FEEL her smile.  "I know I 
look forward to it every night."
	Michael's fingers tightened around his sword's grip.  "You'd be a 
wonderful poet." He looked up at her.  "If you weren't so god damn 
morbid."  
	The smile faded...her mask fell slightly on her face.  Without 
further warning, her knee came up and crashed into SkitZ' jaw.  
"Blasphemy!  I should hang you by your tongue for that!" she yelled.
	That was when the others realized she was standing right next to 
them.  Miharu took out her sword, dropping her Pookie.  "Hey!  Lady!  
Get the hell away from him!"
	Michael's eyes went wide.  "Miharu!  Get ba..."
	"Such a dirty mouth." Uriel stood to her full height.  "Perhaps 
you need your tongue cut out." She held out her fist, then opened it.  
A small flame was burning in it.  
	"AKK!!" Miharu gasped, dropping to the ground gasping for air.  
	"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Rei demanded, but was thrown back by an 
invisible wave of heat from the Knight.
	"Or..." Uriel spoke again as Miharu began to cough out blood.  
"Perhaps it is not your tongue that is the source of your harlot 
mouth..." she closed her hand and Miharu could breath again, gasping 
for air.  
	That relief lasted only a moment, however, as she rolled over 
with a blood-curdling scream when Uriel opened her fist again.  
	Michael's eyes were wide.  "DROP HER NOW!" he raised his sword, 
finding strength in his anger.  "Or I swear I'll take you out with me!"
	Miharu dropped, holding her stomach in pain, yet able to breathe 
again.  Uriel turned to Michael.  "Brave words, Michael." Her armor 
began to flicker, turning from a rough stone color to gold and silver.  
Wings began to form at her back.  They were white and gray.  Very sleek 
and dangerous looking.  Her sword was suddenly in her hand.  She seemed 
to move in jumps and skitters.  "Considering you lost your last duel 
with Jeremiel, I would thing you'd be more cautious about challenging 
the Knights again."
	"Fuck you." Michael grumbled, out of lack of anything better to 
say.  "NOIZE!"

	Uriel gasped as Michael's blade came up and slid into her rib-
cage.  The sickening sweet, wet noise of piercing armor and flesh gave 
Michael a smile, and enough incentive to twist the blade to the left.  
She gasped again.  He would have given anything to see the look on her 
face.  
	But it was too good to be true.  Michael knew that.  Even though 
he had given her a taste of the Noize...it wasn't enough.  Uriel 
exploded into a kind of strange liquid fire, red and white.  Then, 
formed again behind Michael.  
	He spun, but was caught by her fist, which opened up and 
delivered a rather nasty ball of fire into his chest.  He flew back 
down, gasping for air.  "That wasn't very nice!" he coughed, ignoring 
the smell of toasted SkitZ.  
	Uriel seemed even more jittery than before, though, and she was 
clutching fistfuls of hair, trying to pull it out.  "What did you DO to 
me?!?!?!" She gasped.  Her chest was fine, but she seemed to still be 
in pain.
	Rei ran over to him, sure that Miharu was okay, and helped him to 
his feet.  "NOW do you believe the Noize is real?" she asked with fire 
in her eyes.  "That's what you're hearing, isn't it?"
	SkitZ nodded, leaning on his sword for support and clutching his 
chest with his other hand.  "It is." He smiled wickedly.  "And I made 
sure it will never go away."
	
	The battle around them raged, and not that three of them were no 
longer fighting the Hosts, the other Senshi had begun to lose ground.  
Maury had started firing jets of plasma into the crowd, but it wasn't 
helping as much as he would have liked.  "Guys!  Come on!  Help!" he 
yelled back behind him to Rei and Miharu.  
	"If you call off the hosts," Michael continued.  "I will take the 
Noize away."
	"NO!" Uriel screamed.  "This isn't the Noize!" she yelled, even 
though she wasn't believing her own words.  "YOU are the Noize!  YOU 
will die!"  yes, that was easy enough to believe.  She seemed suddenly 
calmer.  "I must kill you."
	Michael sighed.  "Nobody listens to reason anymore."
	Rei nodded sadly.  
	Uriel brought around her sword...a jagged piece of hollow metal 
that seemed to belong to a Hell's Angel rather than an Archangel.  
"I'll see you again, Michael." She promised, raising her weapon.  It 
caught on fire.  
	Michael turned to Rei.  "It just HAD to be a flaming sword of 
death, huh?"
	"Guess so." She sighed, trying to keep the poor Knight on his 
exhausted feet.



	It was like rain, she decided.



	The feeling you get when you're standing outside.  Before you 
look up and notice the rain clouds.  Just before the rain hits, or just 
after it leaves.  
	The air seems to change.  Ever so slightly.  Kind of a liquid 
electricity.  It was a feeling she loved, because it always reminded 
her of someone she knew.

	A blue flash of light skipped past them.  It was playful and 
fast.  Flying straight as a laser beam.  Right into Uriel's chest.  It 
was so fast, she never even saw it coming.  CRACK!  CHOOOOM!

	









	As the smoke cleared from the explosion, everyone stopped.  An 
eerie silence filled the battlefield.  Nobody had any idea what the 
loud crack of thunder had been, and wanted to know where it came from.
	Uriel lie, gasping, in the middle of smoldering armor and 
frazzled feathers.  Rei blinked, not quite believing the sight of a 
perfect slash down the Knight's front.  "Oh my..." she turned around.










	Standing across the field was a lone figure, holding a katana in 
his hand.  He wore a tuxedo shirt and vest, but had a black trenchcoat 
on his shoulders.  As he walked towards the stunned crowd, he took off 
his coat and threw it to the side, revealing two wings on his back.  
	The sun off of his sunglasses made a brief flash as he adjusted 
them and smiled.  

	The Hosts grumbled, wondering who this new angel was.  A sizable 
chunk began to draw their swords and turn towards him.  

	"Oooh." Strike Fiss stood to his full height, stretching his 
wings and tightening his grip on his sword.  He looked like the 
happiest guy on Earth as he brought his sword up to his front.  



	"This is going to be fun." He grinned.






















To be continued...










***********************************************************************



Oooh!  Doesn't that last scene give you chills?  Suggested listening 
music is "SilverFuck" by the Smashing Pumpkins.  Trust me, it fits. 

Hehe!  3 am and doing fine!  Sorry everyone, no death threats may be 
honored, as you see, I did NOT kill Strike Fiss off.  I'm sure you will 
all be happy to know that at least nobody dies at the end of this one.  
The cliffhanger will be much easier to take.  Hehe.  ^_^  I love death-
threats, but I must admit, even I was disturbed by how many "FINISH SK 
5 OR DIE!!" messages I got.  

Ahem.  Now where was I?  Oh yes!  Ranting and raving.  This upcoming 
month may be a weird time for me, as I am starting my own business 
(spread the news).  But not to worry, as it is Computer Consulting, and 
I usually write when I'm doing other stuff on my computer anyway, so 
chances are it may actually SPEED UP my writing time!  Wish me luck!  
Or I will be mean and kill people off in the next story.  Grrrrr.  ^_^

Yes!  Hooze is going to have a baby!  (NOT in real life...just in case 
anyone is worried)  But not for a while.  These things take time, you 
know.  

YES!  I KNOW Hooze/Demeter scenes are a little more tame than Fiss/Rei 
scenes.  I apologize...it's hard to write erotica about your own 
sister.  Call me kooky, but it just doesn't feel right.  Use your 
imaginations, Hooze-fans!  Write your own if you must!  

Yes!  This story will be wrapped up in 2 more installations, so there 
is lots more going on.  After SK, there will be either one or two more 
'series'es, but they won't be big.  They will still be jam-packed-full 
of crazy assed fun, though.

NO!  Nicholas Cage is NOT in this story.  He was busy filming 8mm, so I 
couldn't get him to play Jeremiel.  Sorry everyone!

Any other questions may be addressed to my e-mail for a personal 
response:

strikef@bigfoot.com

Write anytime!  Just be warned it may be a few days until you get a 
response.  I love e-mail!  Never stop sending me things!  AHHAHA!  
Except chain-mail.  Grr.  And of course, you can visit the Crystal 
Canada web-site for e-mail info and all the latest goodies INCLUDING 
ART!  WHEE!  Fan-art will also be posted if it's decent, so if you're 
bored and have a scanner, send it my way!

http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9110




So, that's all for Sailor Moon Seven Knights # 5.  I hope you enjoyed 
it, and if you didn't TOO BAD!  HAHAHA!  But, as always, criticism is 
great and comments are wonderful.  Just send me a letter telling me why 
I suck, and I'll fix it if I deem you to be not-crazy.  ^_^  

This is Strike Fiss signing out, reminding you to always watch the sky, 
fly whenever you can, and never EVER trust a monkey.  They're spooky.


Sailor Moon SK 5:  The only Sailor Moon Fanfic that needs this 
disclaimer at the end:


*** SMOKING CAUSES CANCER!  Don't smoke unless you are 2 feet tall, 
have an inner light, and little wings poking out of your diaper!***

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